If I Never Knew You
by ProsperosDream
Summary: When Jefferson finds a mysterious stranger in the woods around Storybrooke his carefully built walls and the lies he tells himself to cover up his guilt begin to crumble. He has Grace, the things he couldn't give Grace before and he loves her more than ever. Loving his Grace is one thing, but being able to be loved is another. AU Seasons 1 & 2. M for future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Hello Everyone! Let me thank you in advance for reading and sharing in this little fantasy that I can't seem to get out of my head. Let me also go ahead and say a couple of other things... I don't write often (this is my second posting on this site) and I don't have a Beta so if you see something in the writing that is amiss, please let me know. I do my best to check but sometimes you can't catch everything. I do not own any of the proprietary characters and story elements of Once Upon a Time. I only own the characters of my own creation. Lastly, I have, admittedly, not watched the entire series. I have seen Season 1 and some of Season 2 but this idea and these characters won't get out of my head... however, I realize that I may be missing pieces of lore or story line that would change how things work in the OUaT world I'm writing in. Please forgive me, as I watch if I discover something important I may amend things to keep a tighter lip on how this story interacts with that world, but I did want to acknowledge that I recognize this from the outset so... essentially this will be AU Seasons 1 & 2\. Ok... all of that is out of the way. Thanks again, feedback of any kind is greatly appreciated. This is a fairly short chapter but I wanted to bang it out while it was fresh in my mind. Enjoy!

* * *

Everything was black. Black and buzzing. Somewhere in the distance a faint light appeared, and delicate, muffled moans reached Cait's ears. She blinked her eyes open and the light grew brighter but only just a little. The blackness was still there, pressing in around her, it was almost as if it were night out. She blinked again, and through her hazy, unfocused vision, she could see that it was night. It wasn't blackness so much as it was darkness. When had it become night time and who was making all of that noise? As she tried to turn her head she let out a pained sound and realized that the moans had been coming from her own mouth. There wasn't much time to think about that though, her head was swimming and she had the very specific feeling that she was going to vomit. With great effort she rolled onto her side, the motion only making the feeling of nausea worse. Her head was pounding too, and she felt like she had tiny needles sticking into her, all over her face, and arms… down her side and even over part of her legs. What the hell had happened?

* * *

Jefferson was walking, much as he did every night. The peaceful murmuring of the animals and wind moving through the trees a soothing and familiar sound to him. Even since getting Grace back, even now that everyone remembered, he still came out here at night to think. Normally there was nothing here to disturb him save the occasional appearance of a deer or some other wildlife… once he'd nearly been hit by a car but, then again, he'd planned that. Tonight, when he was about halfway through the well-trod path he saw something. There was something large on the side of the road. At first it didn't move, and Jefferson stopped, his breath icing in the cold air as he exhaled, watching the still form. Then, it made a sound, a low moan and after a few more minutes it slowly began to right itself until it became evident, even in the low moonlight, that it was a person. A woman. She had managed to roll herself over and was pushing herself up onto her hands and knees, shaking, unsteady he could see, even at this distance. Without thinking about it he found he had started walking again, taking slow, sure steps toward her. She let out another painful sound and gagged violently. He could see her body shaking and retching. Who could possibly be out here injured and ill? He stopped, realizing in that moment that he didn't recognize her. But that couldn't be. He knew everyone in Storybrooke and save one person, no one new had ever come to the town. And yet… here was this woman. It was selfish but, Jefferson was cautious, he had good reason to be, and he wanted a moment to examine her. She was young, around his age, well the age he looked, he guessed. She was wearing a thin, dark green shirt and black pants that fitted tightly around her legs. She was short, her hair was long, but the color was muddied by dirt and gravel which not only tangled in the curls of her hair but seemed to be stuck to most of her body, skin included. He could see blood was dripping slowly from the side of her face and she had lost one of the ankle height boots she'd been wearing. What was he supposed to do? Strangers didn't just show up here, so who was she? She might be dangerous, this might even be some type of trap, an ambush. He could feel the muscle in his jaw jumping. He should turn around and slip away, go home and kiss Grace goodnight. He had too much to risk it but… What if it wasn't something sinister? What if it was just an injured young woman? What if sometime in the future, though he prayed not, someone abandoned his little girl when she needed help? That made him feel sick and he knew he couldn't walk away, danger or not.

"Hey!" He called out, feet carrying him more swiftly toward the woman as he saw her retch again, body heaving, arms shaking trying to support her weight. "Hey! Are you alright? Can you hear me?"

* * *

Caitriona had no idea that anyone was near, let alone that someone was watching, she probably wouldn't have cared if she'd known. She felt like she'd been tumbled in one of those concrete mixers. Her head was throbbing, she was dry heaving, she ached all over, and there was something wet trickling down the side of her face. Her vision hadn't come back to one hundred percent either and there was a faint humming in her ears. This was bad. She didn't know how bad, but bad enough. As another wave of nausea hit her she felt two arms wrap around her midsection, taking the weight from her own arms and legs. Whomever it was… they were strong and held her with ease. It took a moment to register but they were speaking to her… He, it was a man. He was repeating something over and over… it took another few moments for her brain to clear enough to make sense of it.

"Hey! Are you alright? Can you hear me? Hello? Talk to me… are you alright?" His voice was low and soothing, and he was warm against her back. She felt her eyes fluttering closed despite the pounding and aching. He seemed to notice because he started speaking more urgently to her. "No, hey, don't close your eyes. I need you to wake up ok? Tell me your name…"

She felt herself pulled backwards into a sitting position, the man still behind her, cradling her in his lap, one arm around her waist the other trying to hold her head up; turning her a little so that he could look at her face. She blinked her eyes open, squinting as they tried to focus on his face. It wasn't much help, she could barely make out his features… Angular jaw, lips curled down in concern, brow furrowed over the brightest blue eyes she could ever remember seeing… though, the way her brain was working right now that didn't mean too much. There was a little stubble growing in on his jaw and chin and there was something… a scarf? Maybe… wrapped high up around his neck. She groaned again as he continued to move her, as gently as he could. Her throat felt scratchy and dry and when she parted her lips to speak it took her a couple of tries to get the words out.

"Caitriona… I'm Cait… What happened?" She felt the nausea coming back again and closed her eyes to try and shut it out. She could feel him moving around. She cracked one eye open to see him pulling out a cell phone and awkwardly dialing it with one hand while he cradled her in the other arm. "Who are you calling? Where am I? I need to..." She tried to get up, or at least she thought her brain told her body to get up. What happened was more like a general flailing of limbs. He wasn't able to hold on to her and she rolled out of his lap and back onto the ground. The movement made her retch again, her vision swimming and the world sinking back into stillness and darkness.

* * *

Jefferson wearily climbed the front steps to the house. He was more tired than he could remember being in a long time. Well, physically tired at least. He eased the door open and then closed behind him and crept up the stairs and down the hall, taking a moment to calm his breathing before he cracked open the door to Grace's room. She was asleep, curled around a large stuffed rabbit and tucked into a nest of covers. Silently he slipped into the room and planted a feather-light kiss on her forehead before heading out just as quietly and leaving the door cracked behind him.

In his own room Jefferson stripped off his dirty and bloodied clothing. He had not expected to find anything but solitude on his walk tonight and that was exactly what he hadn't gotten. When he'd removed his clothing and shoes he stepped into the bathroom, turning the shower on, the room steaming from the heat of the water. No, he hadn't expected to find a woman in the woods, bruised and battered and likely with some kind of head injury. She'd looked a lot worse up close, her face scratched and bloody from hitting the gravel and asphalt. It looked like she'd skidded along the road, been thrown from a car, or something but… there was no car, no nothing. Just her shoe, a few feet away and a backpack a few feet from that. If he was honest with himself, he was a little shaken. It had been bad enough when he'd first pulled her up into his arms, but then she'd seized and fallen back to the ground and into unconsciousness. When'd picked her up that time she was dead weight… lifeless, almost. It made his throat tighten to think about it.

Jefferson stepped into the shower, flinching slightly at the water temperature, though he adjusted to it after a moment. For a long time, he simply stood there, letting the water run down over him, eyes closed. An image came to his mind, unbidden, and he couldn't seem to shake it. A heart shaped face covered in dirt and blood… green eyes shining through thick lashes and then suddenly going glassy and unfocused. Her body, in his arms going rigid and then limp. Now he was the one who felt nauseous and he couldn't understand why. Yes, it had been rattling to find someone so injured, especially someone who didn't belong but… she wasn't someone he knew or cared about, why was he having this kind of reaction to it? Grace… it had to be. He hadn't had her back all that long and he'd made that connection before helping the woman. How he would have wanted someone to help Grace if she were hurt… that had to be it.

A long time after the water temperature had cooled on its own Jefferson finally finished washing up and climbed out of the shower. He toweled his hair off and regarded his reflection in the foggy mirror. He ran his hands over his face, scratching at the beard growing in on his chin and then down over the thin scar that encircled his neck. He didn't know what he was looking for here or why he stood there so long… Blowing out a breath of air through his nose he walked out of the bathroom, trying to shake the nerves that kept creeping back into his mind after the evening's events. Slipping into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt he threw back the covers and climbed into bed. Much like the solace he'd been seeking earlier, sleep was not something he was going to find tonight. Those green eyes seemed to burn into him every time he closed his own. By the time he'd decided he wasn't going to get any sleep and resolved to get out of bed, dawn was nearly breaking. A glance at the clock told him that Grace would be waking in a few hours to get ready for school. At least he could get a head start on breakfast, he reasoned, and with something else to focus on, maybe he wouldn't have to see those eyes staring up at him anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

Hello! Just wanted to say thanks again for reading. I'm hoping to churn one of these chapters out every couple of days. Comments and feedback will help with that and are always appreciated. This chapter is a little longer. I hope you like it.

* * *

"Caitriona Cunnigham… hmm?" The Doctor took a look at her chart, standing over her, blocking out some of the jarring white light from the overhead lamp. He had a quizzical look on his face.

"My parents like alliteration…" She croaked the words out of her parched mouth… she might have even shrugged if she hadn't thought it would make her sick. She didn't feel as bad as she had when she'd woken up in the woods, but she still felt terrible. Everything was stiff and aching and she could tell that her left eye was swollen nearly shut. "People usually call me Cait…"

"Well, Cait… you were very lucky. Your injuries aren't as severe as we first thought…" He flipped a page on the chart and glanced up at her before continuing. "Bruised ribs… all of them, it looks like…" He sounded surprised even as he said it "moderate concussion, sprained left ankle, various abrasions to the legs, hands, arms, face… your right wrist is probably sprained but we'll wait for the swelling to go down some just to make sure it isn't broken." He looked finished and then added, with a smile that she assumed was supposed to be charming "Oh, and one hell of a black eye…"

"Thanks… I think." She groaned, glancing around, past the doctor and to the hospital room she was in. "Where exactly am I?" She had tried to avoid thinking about that too much up until now but… lying here, awake, and feeling much like she was going to stay that way, it seemed like time to face up to the fact that she was somewhere she wasn't meant to be.

"You're in… ah…" He hesitated a moment and cleared his throat "Storybrooke… Maine."

All she could do was stare at him. Maine? MAINE? She had been in Virginia. Yesterday she had left her apartment in Williamsburg, intending to walk down to the historic, colonial section of town. She had planned to find a quiet spot to camp out and get some writing done. She'd packed her Surface, a water bottle, everything she normally carried in her purse and done just that. Walking down through Market Square, passing the King's Arms Tavern, she'd turned down a little side alley and propped herself under a large Oak, in the shade. There had been a small paddock of lambs nearby, she could hear them baa-ing softly. And then… what? She searched her brain but couldn't seem to find the memory, only the vague sensation of falling and fear and then nothing.

"Cait?" The doctor was speaking again, how long he'd been calling her she didn't know. She looked up at him, the confusion and fear must have been written plainly on her face because he set down the chart and stepped over to the side of the bed. "It's alright, take a deep breath. Your memory is going to be a little foggy for the next little while, a concussion will do that… but it will come back. You're in the hospital in Storybrooke, all your things are here… your bag, your phone, even your rogue shoe." He smiled, trying for humor. "We'll get you sorted out… don't worry." But there was something behind his eyes that belied his comforting words. He had told her not to be worried, but it was evident that he already was. Before she had time to examine that thought any further one of the nurses was calling him. The doctor gave her a sympathetic look and then grabbed his charts on the way out the door.

"I'll check in on you later… No doubt the Sheriff will want to speak to you too, but for now, rest."

Cait wasn't sure rest was on the menu just now. She had been sleeping for a while, about 8 or so hours and despite the fact that she was still as tired as she could ever remember being, the aches in her body were making it difficult to be comfortable enough to sleep again. When she'd first woken she had asked to be put on the bare minimum level of pain killers, she hated how out of it they made her feel and being in an unfamiliar place, she wasn't keen on being any more out of control of her faculties than she already was. That meant that she was feeling all of those bumps and bruises though. It didn't really matter anyway, not ten minutes after Dr. Whale had disappeared one of the nurses was standing in her doorway next to a blonde woman in a dark red leather jacket, a Sheriff's badge pinned to her lapel.

"Miss Cunningham, this is Sheriff Swan, she is here to speak with you about… your incident." Cait nodded a little, glancing between the women. 'Incident'... it was an incident alright. She was found on the side of a little used road in the woods, looking like she'd been toss from a car in an accident where there was no car in a place she hadn't been anywhere near only hours before. No one was really talking to her about it, not the doctor, not the nurses, they seemed to be tiptoeing around the circumstances of Cait's arrival here in Storybrooke and her pain addled brain was too foggy to try and figure out why.

"Thanks Blue… You can just call me Emma... "The woman was holding a few pieces of paper in a folder which she laid in her lap as she stepped over to the chair next to Cait's bed and took a seat.

"Caitriona… but Cait will do too" Cait said by way of introduction. "I don't remember much...I'm sorry…" The woman was nodding, looking at Cait but almost through her, in a way. She had the same puzzled look on her face that everyone she'd met her gave her.

"Nice to meet you, sorry it is under these circumstances… And it's ok… Dr. Whale said you were pretty concussed… I have a witness statement here, from the man who found you and called in to the hospital… I just wanted to check these details with you and make sure nothing else had come to you." Cait nodded. Right, the man that found her, she'd nearly forgotten about him… well, maybe not completely. It seemed as if she had maybe dreamed about him, but it was hard to tell if she had or it was just a hazy memory from her brief period of lucidity on the side of the road. He had blue eyes. He had been wearing a scarf. Her brain hadn't seemed to be able to hold on to much more than that. "Do you mind if I read you the statement?"

"No, Sheriff...ah… Emma, go ahead. Maybe it will help." Cait listened as Emma read out the account and while it didn't help her remember anything more than was already noted there, it did seem to freshen up the memory of waking on the pavement and being pulled into the mystery man's arms. "Who was it? The person that found me?" Her voice was still raspy, and Emma leaned over to pick up a cup of water from the side table, fitting a straw into the lid and handing it to Cait. She took a long drink, nodding at Emma who took the cup back and set it aside. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. Ah, his name is Jefferson. He lives in a big place near the road where he found you, I think he walks that way ay night pretty often." She seemed reluctant to say more than that and busied herself putting away the statement in the folder. "I appreciate you listening to this… I know it's going to be some time before the concussion clears up, but if you remember anything else, see if you can write it down and let me know. Normally I wouldn't be involved in this but, Dr. Whale must have told you… there isn't really any apparent cause for your injuries… other than that you hit the pavement really hard but, there was no car near there, no reason for you to have done that." Cait nodded, wetting her lips with her tongue and trying to suppress the panic that was welling up in her throat.

"He told me… I… I don't know how I got here. I can't remember…" Emma looked like she was going to speak but Cait kept going. "I know that concussions can play with your memory and brain function but… I don't remember anything after yesterday afternoon... "She felt dampness at the corners of her eyes and sniffled loudly, trying to keep it together. "I was spending the day writing, near my apartment… in Williamsburg. Virginia." She added the state for emphasis. "That's a long way to go and not remember how…" She let that hang for a moment, glancing over at Emma who was looking down at the folder in her hands, gears evidently turning in her head.

"It is, but we'll figure it out. I don't want you to worry. You're safe here. Dr. Whale said it looked like all of your things were intact, if a little battered." She stood from the chair, reaching for something in her back pocket. "I brought you a charger for your phone… he mentioned you had the phone when he called me but said it was dead. I thought you might want to give your family or boyfriend, or whoever a call…"

"Thank you… I do. I… I guess I'll call my parents, I don't have a boyfriend... They'll want to come here if they know I'm in the hospital…" Cait shook her head, the idea of explaining this to them was daunting. Emma seemed to be thinking the same thing as she fished around in Cait's rumpled backpack and pulled out her phone. She plugged one end of the cable into the wall outlet and the other into the cell phone, resting it on the table beside her within arm's reach. The top right corner of the screen was cracked but it looked otherwise in decent condition, and as soon as it was connected to power the screen lit up with the charging indicator, so that was a good sign.

"You know… I don't know how your parents are but, sometimes this kind of news can be shocking. Maybe it's best to break it to them gently, you know, until we know a little more…" She seemed to be picking her words carefully and not for the first time this morning Cait got the idea that her appearance here was more out of the ordinary than even the obvious circumstances indicated. "I mean, I'd hate for them to have to drive here from Virginia or, wherever they are… Dr. Whale said he didn't think you'd be in here more than a week so… you know, why make them worry." She swallowed, trying to smile as if she were giving a casual piece of friendly advice. Cait wasn't buying that exactly but it didn't change the fact that Emma was right. She was going to have to omit a few things if she wanted to keep her family from freaking out and jumping in a car to drive who knows how many hours to Maine. Her parents weren't even in Virginia, they lived in Georgia, and the idea of them speeding up I-95 worrying over her condition made her feel more guilt and worse than the idea of fibbing to them did, at least for now.

"Yeah, you're right I think… I may just let them know I've taken a little trip. I know Dr. Whale is waiting on some results about my wrist and other things too so, might be best to wait until we have the facts…" She sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than she was agreeing with Emma, but the Sheriff gave her a reassuring look and nodded before turning toward the door.

"I'll stop back by and check on you, if that's alright. I'm pretty new here so, I know what it's like being on your own somewhere unfamiliar…" Cait nodded, exhaustion seeping back into her body, temporarily forgotten during their conversation. She appreciated the thought and hoped it might offer a chance to figure out a little more about how she'd gotten here to begin with.

"Thanks, I appreciate it…" She smiled as best she could and watched as the woman walked out of the door. After that Cait was fighting sleep again, wrestling with being tired and hurting. Sleep seemed like it was winning though, this time, but the charging indicator on her phone told her it had enough power to turn on and make a call, so she pushed herself for just a little more.

Another half hour after that and she had called her parents, sent a couple of texts to friends, and even made a few notes in her phone about why she said she'd gone on a sudden, week-long get-a-way to a little-known seaside town in Maine. She was afraid her brain would get confused later and she'd blow her cover, so jotting down the basics in her phone's notepad seemed like a good idea. By the time she was done her eyelids were barely open and she had to try several times to set the phone on the table. She was only still a moment after before her eyes had fluttered closed and sleep began pulling her under.

* * *

The knock on the door sounded just as Jefferson put his hand on the knob, he and Grace were on the way to drop her off at school. When it opened he was surprised to find Emma Swan standing on the other side of it, her Sheriff's badge prominently displayed.

"Sheriff Swan…" He murmured, Grace peeking around from behind him to see who was at the door.

"Who is it Papa?" The girl asked, peering around her father's waist until she could see the woman on the other side of the threshold. "Oh, Hello!" The girl waved, a little shyly, one of her hands clutching the back of her father's coat.

"We are on the way to school…" He said flatly. He felt bad about what had happened between he and Emma, and Mary Margaret… well, what he'd done. His eyes dropped as the memory came to him and he cleared his throat, shuffling his weight from one foot to the other.

"Yeah, Hi, Grace, right?" Emma gave the girl a wave of her own and stepped back. "Maybe I can walk with you, I have a few questions about last night." He could tell she saw the memory of their last encounter clearly in the set of his face and since she was making an effort to be cordial, he decided he would do the same.

"About the girl you found?" Grace questioned, turning her face to look at him as he gently pushed her out through the door by the top of her book bag.

"Don't worry about it, you just go ahead, I'll be right behind you, ok?" He gave her a smile and she returned it, tip-toeing and gripping the lapel of his jacket, giving a little hop up to plant a kiss on his cheek. His Grace, she never failed to make his insides turn into mush. His smile widened, and he brushed his hand over her hair as she trotted down the steps while he locked the door behind them. Emma waited on him and matched his step as they hit the sidewalk behind Grace. "So, you said you wanted to talk…"

"Yeah…" Emma began reciting the details of last night… where he found the woman, what time it was. He was nodding and agreeing. He'd written it all down in detail hoping to avoid doing just this, but he reminded himself, looking at his daughter walking happily ahead of him, that now wasn't the time to be cross. "Her injuries are pretty extensive but not serious, fortunately… concussion, sprained wrist and ankle, bruised ribs, cuts and scrapes... Dr. Whale said it was like she'd been tossed from something onto the road… but there was no car." She was holding his statement and a few other documents.

"Yeah, it looked like it… no, no car." Jefferson put his hands into his pockets, cursing himself under his breath. That was quite the list of bumps and bruises. He had a vaguely guilty feeling, as if there was something he could've done to prevent those things, though rationally he knew there wasn't. "She was pretty out of it… didn't say much. Told me her name… well, her first name."

"Right… Caitriona…" Emma was reading from the paper. It kind of looked like Katrina but with the worst spelling she'd ever seen, she was sure that's how the woman had pronounced it though, so she went with that.

"Caitriona…" He repeated, confirming the pronunciation as Katrina. "Cait…She said, a nickname I guess…" He said it as Kate, repeating what the woman had said to him the previous night. "That's really all… She asked where she was, what had happened… but she passed out again before I could answer. I…" He had started to say that he had been scared, but he wasn't sure he wanted to. The way Sheriff Emma Swan was looking at him right now he was sure he didn't need to say it, she seemed to have figured that out and her face softened a little as it dawned on her. "She was pretty beat up... "He tried to shrug, as if it wasn't a big deal… as if he hadn't lost a night of sleep over the way she'd stared up at him, how her body felt limp in his arms, how helpless he'd felt holding her. Something dawned on him then too...and later, he would wonder why it had taken him so long to make the connection. In this moment, it nearly stole his breath, and he looked pointedly down, furiously blinking his eyes to keep the tears burning at the back of them at bay.

Priscilla… hadn't he held her just the same, hiding in that cabinet, an arrow jammed through her body while the life faded from her eyes. His face was wet suddenly, and he brought the back of a hand up to wipe away the errant tears. Emma, for her part, was looking ahead, though he knew she had seen his face. He appreciated that she was pretending she hadn't. But that was it… it wasn't so much the thought of his Grace as it was the memory of his dying wife resurfacing after all this time. He'd fought hard to bury that. It was his fault...her dying, her body left behind in some other place, just so he could go home to Grace and then screw it all up again. The girl hadn't died this time though and she wasn't his wife. That was long, long ago now. Something he needed to put firmly behind him. He couldn't raise Grace while constantly wallowing in the self-pity and hatred he felt when he thought about the circumstances of her mother's death, but it was hard... The guilt of having left his daughter was crushing at the best of times, adding Priscilla's death made it almost unbearable.

Emma cleared her throat as they approached the school. "Thanks… I just wanted to make sure you didn't remember anything else… I know last night was… hectic." She gave him something of a smile and waited just a moment, making sure he hadn't in fact remembered anything more. When he shook his head, she stepped to the side, pausing before fully turning away from him. "She's awake… you should swing by the hospital and see her. Might make you feel better…" Emma had a very strange look on her face then, when Jefferson finally managed to pull himself together enough to look at her. "I know what you and everyone else is thinking but… we have to treat her like she came here accidentally, which for all we know, she did. I know it's suspicious but… I guess I'm trying to say thank you for helping her… I know you must have questioned it and… just… thanks. It was the right thing to do Jefferson." She reached out and squeezed his shoulder. It was a little awkward, but the message was received. He pulled a hand from his pocket and gave her a nod and wave before taking a few long strides to catch up to Grace, laying his arm across her shoulders.

"Alright… I'm sorry about that sweetheart." He'd told Grace a little of what had happened, figuring she'd hear about it at school the way news travelled in this town. "Just had to make sure the lady from last night is doing alright…" Grace leaned into him, tucking herself further under his arm as they walked the last few feet to the school.

"You saved her Papa…" The girl said simply, smiling up at her father with something he thought was adoration but was afraid to dwell on, lest it disappear.

"I guess so… Sheriff Swan was right though, it was the right thing to do… help people. You remember that, ok baby?" He had turned her to face him, squatting down in front of her and brushing a few strands of hair back from her face. "Now, have a good day at school. I love you." He drew her into a hug and placed a kiss on her forehead before letting her go.

"I will Papa… I love you." She gave him that heart melting smile again and skipped off toward the school, catching up to a gaggle of girls her age and falling in alongside them. He watched her until she had disappeared into the building and then started back for home. When he hit main street he started to make the turn that would lead him back to the house, but something gave him pause. He could see the top of the hospital, rising over a few lower shops and buildings. The girl was awake… so that meant she was ok. At least ok enough. He should just go home, she was fine, she was in the best place she could be and even though they might all be running their shops, attending classes, working as if this were a real town, it wasn't. There was a lot going on here and more important things for him to focus on. Everyone else was still fresh out of the curse, trying to struggle on in Storybrooke with their newly remembered selves competing against the lives they had here... having a stranger suddenly appear in their midst was a frightening prospect indeed. He wondered how they'd react to the news if they didn't already know and he thought about what Sheriff Swan had said "We have to treat her like she came here accidentally" ... if that was true, if she really had just been brought here somehow, she must have also been terrified.

* * *

She didn't know how long she'd been asleep. It could have been days, or minutes. She just knew that suddenly there were voices near her, floating in through the open doorway, and speaking steadily. When her eyes blinked open the two figures standing on the other side of the door stepped inside. One, in front, was Dr. Whale. The other she didn't know, at least, not right away. The second man was tall, at least as tall as the doctor. He was wearing a long, dark coat over a black shirt and black and grey patterned vest. Tucked in to the top was a silk scarf, tied almost like a cravat, in a purple so dark that it too seemed nearly black. She remembered the scarf and then as she finally brought her gaze up to his face it hit her… Those blue eyes were staring at her, the look in them hard to place. This was the man who had found her. She took another moment to groggily appraise him. He seemed young, her age or a few years older. He was definitely handsome… rakish, her mother might have said. He had the same stubble growing over his jaw that she now remembered from the night before, and his brown hair was styled up and away from his face, fashionably disheveled in places.

"Wake up Miss Cunningham, you have a visitor…" Dr. Whale had been saying. Cait knew that the other man was watching her look him over, but he didn't say anything about it. He merely looked at her in return. She could see him taking in the bed and machines, her bruised and swollen face. "This is Jefferson, he's the one who found you and kindly called us the other night… He wanted to see how you were doing." Whale stepped back then, gesturing from the man, Jefferson, to the empty seat by the bed and then moving out of the room.

Jefferson didn't move for a moment. He seemed unsure of himself somehow. She could see he was shifting his weight and wondered why he appeared so uncomfortable. After another heartbeat he carefully made his way to the side of the bed and sat down, awkwardly, leaning forward a little with his elbows resting on his thighs.

"I'm, ah, glad you're awake and, doing better." He swallowed visibly, and his gaze dropped away from her face "You looked pretty bad last night…"

"Yeah, I, well, I feel like I was run over by something but…" She didn't know what else to say, there was the obvious element of nothing being present to have caused her injuries, that and the fact she couldn't remember how she'd gotten there. "I guess I really owe you though, no telling how long I might have been out there if you hadn't found me… Could have been a lot worse…" She felt like she was on the verge of rambling so the stopped herself and forced her eyes to meet his. "Thank you." She managed to sit up a little then, though not without a few pained groans and great effort, enough that he scooted forward on his seat, brow furrowing in concern, hands briefly coming out toward her as if to help but not knowing how. "It's ok… it's ok" She murmured, getting herself into as comfortable a position as possible and then extended her hand to him. "I think I may have already told you this but… I wouldn't call last night a proper introduction. I'm Cait and you have no idea how nice it is to meet you Jefferson… like I said, I owe you."

The ghost of a smile flitted across his mouth and he reached out, taking her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You did, tell me… but I'm glad you're well enough to tell me again…" He was looking down at her hand, still holding it, carefully. She was watching him, her breath hitching in her throat as his thumb inadvertently smoothed over the back of her knuckles. It was her turn to swallow hard now, nerves on edge, a shiver running through her body that had nothing to do with the temperature. He seemed to realize he'd been holding her hand too long and pulled away, folding both of his own hands in his lap and looking around the room. He seemed like he was having a lot of trouble, like there was more going on behind those intense blue eyes than just an introduction in a hospital room.

The silence hung thick for a few minutes and then he looked at her again, fixing her with a stare that made her heart thud loudly in her chest. "And you don't remember how you got here?" His eyebrows raised a little as he spoke, and she didn't know whether he, like everyone else, seemed to know something she didn't or was skeptical of her 'I don't know' response.

"No… I… I got up, yesterday and walked a couple of miles down from my place to sit and write." Early she'd thought that it seemed like people were avoiding this topic but after having explained it to the Sheriff and now, having to do it again… she felt like she didn't want to have to say it. Saying it made her think about it. It made this feeling of panic rise in her throat, choking her and flooding her with an overwhelming sense that she was totally out of control. "I was sitting under a tree, there were sheep in the paddock next to me, people were walking around Market Square… I… I was in Virginia… that's...what? A thousand miles, literally, from here?" The pitch of her voice had risen as well as the volume and she could feel the anxiety she'd been fighting to keep down threatening to take over. It had been hard enough to call her parents this morning… white lies were one thing but making up an excuse for a last-minute trip like this while lying in a hospital bed was something else altogether. She had no idea how she'd kept it together enough to be believed, but with every time she had to explain that she had no idea how she'd gotten from the southern coast of Virginia to Maine it got harder and harder to keep up any semblance of calm.

Jefferson seemed apologetic when she looked at him again. The stare was gone, his eyes softened, and mouth turned down slightly, though he still regarded her with a steady gaze. She felt herself trembling, the exhaustion, pain, and panic on the verge of spilling over with the tears that were burning her eyes. She felt one escape and slip down her cheek and turned her face away, pressing it into the pillow and shutting her eyes tightly. "I'm sorry…" She whispered, afraid to speak any louder lest the tears fully take over. "I didn't mean to… I mean… I should be thanking you not, not going off about…" She didn't really know how to finish that sentence, so she didn't. She hadn't heard him get up but when she managed to look at him again he was standing over the bed, leaning down a little, his hand extended and frozen in the air as if he'd meant to touch her and then thought better of it.

"It's ok… You should rest you've… you've been through a lot, and I shouldn't have asked. It's none of my business...I'm the one who should be sorry." He stood up, hand dropping to his side. "Dr Whale, Sheriff Swan, they'll take care of you… Don't worry about that. Just worry about getting better…" He offered a smile but there was something sad about it and she searched his eyes but found nothing discernable there. He held her gaze a moment longer and then gave her a quick nod before turning and walking out of the room.

When he was gone and she had wiggled her way back down into the bed and covers she felt sleep pulling at her again and it wasn't long before she was drifting off. Her dreams were fast and muted...vague images of sunlight and the large oak tree. There was a flash of purple light and darkness. She was falling. It felt like forever, just falling, in blackness… and being afraid. Then she wasn't falling, she was crashing, and heaving, and her world was spinning until a pair of arms righted her, held on… blue eyes piercing her own, colored with concern. A voice, speaking to her distantly, the words muffled as if under water and then darkness again. She dreamed it over and over. Sunlight, purple flash, falling, crashing, arms and eyes, nothingness. She dreamed it until being tired and awake was better than the constant cycle that sleep had brought. When she woke herself, she reached out for and held the button to call the nurses in her hand for a few moments, her sleep addled brain taking longer than necessary to decide. Maybe just for today she'd have a little more medicine, especially if it meant she could rest without dreaming. Jefferson had said Dr. Whale would take care of her, and whether it was wise or not, she felt like she could trust him. She wanted to trust him. So, she pressed the button, and when the nurse had come and gone she pushed away the fear and panic and anxiety of all the unanswered questions and confusion and allowed the blissful emptiness of a medicine-induced sleep to take her away.

* * *

The walk home seemed longer than usual, colder, and Jefferson pulled his jacket more tightly around himself. Visiting the woman in the hospital had been a mistake, he was sure of that now. This whole thing had rocked what little emotional stability he felt like he'd been building since he'd gotten Grace back and now… One little thing had cost him a night of sleep and more energy than wanted to admit thinking about his faults, his mistakes, and the pain they'd caused him and others. His absence in Grace's life for so long was always lingering at the back of his mind, but diving back into the memories of his wife's death, his scheming against Emma and Mary Margaret… He felt like he was walking a dangerous line toward a place where these things threatened to break free of the places he'd locked them away. He couldn't have them running rampant in his head… maybe facing his guilt, his flaws, maybe that was the right way but, he knew it would come with a heavy price and just when he had gotten Grace back, when he needed to prove to her and himself that he could keep it together… well it wasn't a price he thought he could afford to pay. So, he locked it all up in his mind, pushed away, forced himself to forget about it. At least he'd thought he had…

And then there was this woman… He hadn't realized he was also feeling angry until he shut the front door behind himself so hard that it rattled the hinges. He felt like he'd embarrassed himself, or her, or both of them at the hospital. Why had he held her hand like that? He didn't know, he only knew that it was the lesser of evils based on how he'd felt while there. When she was struggling to sit up and then, when she had started to cry, frustrated by her own confusion and situation. He'd wanted nothing more than scoop her up into his arms. He'd seen it in his mind's eye… sliding onto the edge of the hospital bed and pulling her against him, wrapping his arms around her and holding her until she was calmed and quieted. He hadn't done that of course. He'd restrained himself, more or less, allowing himself that one lingering touch when they shook hands. She probably was glad to see him go so quickly. Jefferson was self-aware enough to know that it had been far too intimate, far too familiar.

He tossed his jacket onto the sofa, sitting down heavily at the piano bench and leaning down over the keys, elbows resting on the cover. He placed his head in his hands, trying to slow his breathing, to sooth his raw nerves and anger. At least he didn't really need to see her again… He'd helped her, he'd visited her… what other reason would he have to see her? There was the question of her mysterious arrival in Storybrooke, but he had decided at the hospital, when he said it was none of his business, he meant it. He wasn't going to get involved. He wanted, like everyone else, to keep on living here while they found a way back home and that was that. He had to worry about Grace and about getting her back to their own land. He knew now that getting a new story for the both of them wasn't really possible and he wasn't planning on extending his help to Regina ever again anyway, so he would settle for home. Even if it meant the cottage with dirt floors… they'd been happy there, at least. And so what if he'd behaved a little inappropriately in the hospital. It wasn't his fault if finding this injured girl had brought back the memories of his wife… if seeing her pale and still in the hospital bed, surrounded by her dark red hair, looking at him with those deep, green eyes had made him feel things he'd been desperately trying to hide away. It wasn't his fault if helping her had caused him to relive the last time he'd held anyone that way… watching the light fade from Priscilla's eyes as she gave up her life, so he could live, so he could be there for their daughter. He was allowed a moment of weakness over that, just the one and it was over and passed.

And that was that. No more dwelling on Priscilla… she had to go back behind that wall where her memory lived most of the time. No more thinking about Cait or those green eyes or any of his wayward designs on holding her, no matter how fragile or frightened she looked. He would do his best to never see her again, either in person or in his own mind. He was going to get back to something more important… he had a lot of lost time to make up with Grace and he was going to do just that. And he was going to get them home and he was going to find a way to build a wall around the guilt he felt for ever leaving her. They would be free and together, and even if that's all he ever got to have in the rest of his life, it would be enough. It had to be enough.


	3. Chapter 3

Hello Everyone! Thanks for the reviews. I appreciate the feedback and just hearing what you think! Sorry for the little hiatus over the weekend - just needed a little time to unwind. This chapter is longer and just covers one afternoon but, I felt like it was really important to try and dig and spend some time establishing what was really going on in Cait and Jefferson's minds now that they are out of the woods (pun intended). I feel like now I can start on a path which will really up open up the mystery around Cait's being in Storybrooke and just exactly what is going on between her and Jefferson. As always, thank you for reading, and feel free to leave me any kind of feedback at all. 3

* * *

Cait had been in the hospital for a week and after the first few days' time had absolutely crawled by. She'd slept on and off for the first 72 hours or so, not doing much else besides eating the occasional cup of jello, getting check-ups from the doctor, and drinking a bit of water. After that Emma had returned on Monday afternoon to see how she was doing. The visit was a little unexpected, even though the Sheriff had mentioned she'd be back by, but it was also very welcome. The woman seemed to understand a little of Cait's situation and the feelings she had about it, and in general, Cait just liked her. She'd been able to start using her computer a little as well, though only in small doses, looking at the screen too long made her feel bad and her brain was still relatively foggy and uncooperative. Outside of that and a little bit of moving around to test her progress in healing the various bumps and bruises she'd sustained, there wasn't much to do. So, when Emma returned the next day and the next, she wasn't about to complain. If she were very honest with herself she'd hoped someone else would return as well, but he hadn't, and she'd made it a point not to dwell on that. Each day she would see the nurses, speak with Dr. Whale, eat, maybe catch up on some emails, rest, speak with her family over the phone or text, and then chat with Emma in the afternoon. Most of the time they didn't talk about anything of consequence, but it was a pleasant distraction and helped to keep Cait's day full. Nights were the only time she really had to herself, and if she could have changed that, she would have. When everything was quiet, only the occasional sound of a nurse making the night-shift rounds, Cait lay in her bed, mind swirling with half-remembered visions and an unmistakable fear that she just hadn't quite been able to shake since she'd first woken here. She found herself amid a nightly anxiety attack, heart racing, breath choking in her throat as she thought about all the different things that might have explained how she'd been sitting under a tree near her home and then ended up injured and on a roadside a thousand miles away.

Thursday evening, a full week to the day since she'd been found, Dr. Whale came by to visit her, unusually late. He had good news though. She wasn't completely healed but he thought she was well enough to leave the hospital if she was careful and under some level of supervision. It was the best news she'd heard since she arrived and the idea of this being her last night in the cold, clinical, lifeless room with monitors beeping and machinery whirring around her was like a breath of fresh air. She slept a little more peacefully that night, though she had the same dream she'd been having since she arrived. The same recurring series of visions that began with her outside under the tree and ended with her blacking out in Jefferson's arms. When she woke on Friday morning, she hoped that a change of environment might help her put those dreams behind her, or at least do something to alter them so that they were not the same mind-numbing, puzzling cycle of images over and over.

Just before 3:00pm Emma arrived, just as she had been doing for the past couple of days. Today, however, Dr. Whale was with her.

"All ready to go?" He asked, casting a smile, that didn't quite meet his eyes, over her. Cait had taken a blissfully hot shower in the morning and had been allowed to dress in the clothing she'd been brought in wearing. It was battered and torn, and would need to be replaced, but it was hers, and she felt more like herself than she had all week. "Sheriff Swann has kindly volunteered to drive you to the B&B… Ah, and on that note…" He pulled a pair of crutches from a place near the door where they were propped and showed them to her. "We fitted these for you the other day, remember? So, you keep on with these until I see you in a couple of days and we'll see where to go from there. You also need to keep the wrap on like we talked about and the brace on that wrist… ok? And no driving, obviously, but remember, you could still have dizziness, blurred vision, memory lapses… So you need to be careful." He had already told her most of this but, she figured he had plenty of patients who didn't heed his words so, she supposed it was worth repeating. "Now, Emma is going to help you out and said she'd check in on you each day, Granny will too, since she runs the bed and breakfast, but if you feel anything is getting worse or not getting any better, or if the medicine isn't strong enough, whatever… give us a call, alright?"

Cait nodded, she was trying to look attentive while he spoke so that he'd wrap it up and let her out. She'd never done well with being cooped up inside for too long, and the off-white walls of the hospital room were just about to drive her mad. She couldn't imagine what it'd be like if she'd had to stay any longer. He looked at her for a moment before nodding and then scribbling his name across a form on his clipboard. He passed it to her with the pen and indicated where she should sign to complete her release.

"Alright Miss Cunningham, you take care, and don't forget what I said…" He pulled a packet of paperwork from beneath the release form and set it on a chair next to her book bag. "That's all your care instructions, the contact info for the hospital, your prescriptions… again, call if you need anything." He gave a nod to Emma and a final wave to Cait before turning and heading out the door of the room.

Emma raised her eyebrows. "Well, ready?" She was already reaching for Cait's bag and paperwork before turning to pass the crutches to her. Cait had pulled her phone from the side table and shoved it in the back pocket of her pants before carefully standing, balanced on her good foot and sliding the crutches under her arms. It was difficult to use them with one wrist in a brace, but the nurses had gone over the proper technique with her and assured her that the brace would help her not to injure herself while she was getting around. She took a couple of careful steps and then looked up at Emma, smiling.

"Ready!" When she was out of the room and they were making their way down the hall she cast a glance over to the other woman. "I really appreciate you doing this… you didn't have to." It shouldn't have really surprised her, Emma had been nothing but kind to her and as much as they could be under the circumstances, Cait was starting to consider that they were friends.

"Don't worry about it, I don't mind. Although you may get tired of seeing me. Dr. Whale seemed pretty strict about having someone check in on you a few times a day." Emma smiled at her, walking slowly to keep pace with Cait as she hobbled along. "I was thinking we could drop your things and get your room settled at Granny's and then swing by to pick you up toiletries, a few more clothes, whatever you need to get by for a while…" She hesitated a little and something curious flickered across her face but it was gone as soon as it had come and Cait decided it was nothing.

"Yeah, that's great. I don't expect I'll be here that much longer but, I don't think I can walk around in these much more... "She glanced down to the legs of her pants, the left torn and tattered, barely holding itself together. Both women laughed a little and Cait felt herself smiling, rather genuinely. "Is there anywhere decent to eat?" She glanced over at Emma again, stepping through the front doors and out into the blessed sunlight with her.

"Yeah, I guess you're pretty tired of hospital food huh?" She indicated a faded, yellow VW bug parked along the curb.

"If I never see another cup of jello, it'll be too soon." Cait confirmed, carefully making her way down the step and onto the sidewalk where Emma was unlocking the car door and putting her things into the back seat.

"Alright then… room, clothes, food. Got it."

It wasn't long before Cait had checked into her room on the ground floor at Granny's B&B, settling in with the few things she had with her. The room was large, with a desk and chair, small sofa, wardrobe, vanity, and four poster bed. It was a touch too pink for Cait's liking but it was homey and comfortable. Granny, as everyone seemed to call her, had been pleasant and seemed happy to have her staying, though the curious look she shared with Emma when they'd first walked in didn't escape Cait. Neither did the glances from those they passed on the street or from the woman in the clothing shop. To be fair, she was hobbling around on crutches with a fading black eye, bandaged ankle, braced wrist, and clothing that looked like it had been mauled by a tiger. She supposed, under the circumstances, she was willing to forgive people for looking at her as if she were a little strange.

By the time they were done, had hauled a few new items of clothing, an appropriate jacket, and a few toiletries into her room and Cait had gotten changed dusk was starting to settle in. Though since winter was nearly in full swing the days were shorter, and the darkness began a little earlier every night. Cait had gotten herself an oversized grey sweater, thick and warm, which she was wearing over a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of black skinny jeans, one foot in its wrapping, the other in the boot she'd been wearing when she arrived. She'd brushed her hair, and teeth, and even put on just a little bit of makeup to cover up her eye some, thankful she'd had it in her book bag and that only the top of her foundation bottle had been damaged. By then her stomach was growling loud enough for Emma to hear it when she finally came out of her room and into the little foyer of the B&B.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to take so long... "She had her phone in her pocket and a purse they'd picked up at the store draped across her body.

"Don't worry about it, I'm sure you're glad to be out of that hospital gown. We can go through here into the diner or outside and around…"

"Definitely out and around… You said there was outdoor seating?" Cait was already heading for the door, Emma pulling it open for her and matching her stride as they headed down the path and out to the road.

"Yes, there definitely is. Granny said she'd keep a table open, get you some fresh air." That sounded almost as good to her as food not from the hospital did. "I wanted to ask if it was ok if a friend of mine joined us?" Emma gave her a little glance and a small smile. "We usually have dinner together on Fridays so… Ah, her name is Mary Margaret, she works at the school."

"Of course,…" Cait was essentially alone here, her time at the hospital, having spoken to family and friends only over the phone had made her acutely aware of that. Even those conversations had put some level of strain on her, rather than bringing relief. It was tiresome keeping up her spur-of-the-moment vacation charade. Sitting down to dinner with a couple of people, even if she didn't really know them, where she wasn't being treated as a patient or guarding her words to keep her story straight would be a welcome reprieve. It would be pleasant, she thought, as they rounded the corner onto the main street. She could see the little fenced in courtyard in front of the diner, lights strung up in the arched entrance and over the tables, the horizon behind it glowing in pinks and oranges, crisp winter air chilling her face, and the murmur of voices growing louder as they approached the tables. No, she wouldn't mind a little more company, not at all. "That sounds really nice, thank you for letting me crash your dinner plans."

Emma smiled and gestured to a table in the corner next to the building where a woman with short, dark hair sat. Even from this distance Cait could see that she seemed to have a pleasant demeanor. She looked kind and friendly and she was conversing with patrons as they passed her, having not yet noticed them entering the courtyard. A moment later and they were there, Emma giving her friend a wave and helping to move the chairs around to make room for Cait and her crutches.

"Mary Margaret… this is Cait… Cait, Mary Margaret…" Emma was smiling at them both, Mary Margaret as well. The woman had reached her hand out to Cait who returned her smile and tucked the crutches tightly beneath her arms so that she could take Mary Margaret's hand. Just as they were shaking the door to the diner opened behind Mary Margaret and a little girl in a dark pink coat spilled out. She had long, blonde hair and she was talking excitedly to someone who appeared through the door just moments behind her. As he cleared the doorway Jefferson looked up, his eyes finding Cait's instantly. He froze, one hand on the open door, one on the little girl's shoulder. Cait found herself frozen too, her breath feeling trapped in her throat, one hand still clasping Mary Margaret's.

"Cait…" Mary Margaret and Emma had both said her name, nearly at the same time. It was almost like, for a moment, she hadn't been able to see them, she'd felt far away and somehow very grounded at the same time. She jerked her eyes away from Jefferson's and tried to smile at the two women, now looking very concerned at her, letting the hand that had been holding the other woman's fall to her side.

"I'm sorry I just… um… my brain is still a little…" She tried to make a joke, but her heart was hammering away in her chest and the laugh she forced out sounded more pained than humorous. Emma, who didn't seem to buy that at all, quickly turned to look behind her, trying to follow the path of Cait's stare. Cait saw her eyes widen a little and she hazarded a glance of her own back towards Jefferson. He was looking down at the little girl who in turn, was giving him the same confused and concerned look that Cait had been receiving. She felt suddenly unsteady on her feet, well, foot, and wanted badly to sit down; she just couldn't quite get her legs to work, it seemed, or her arms for that matter. And then both the little girl and Jefferson were walking toward them, their hands clasped together, his eyes firmly fixed on Cait's face.

"Cait…" Jefferson's smooth, low voice cut through the sounds of the people around her, through the incessant, wild thudding of her heart in her chest. Emma had watched him approach and was looking at him now, as he and the girl stepped up to the table with a face Cait couldn't quite place. Mary Margaret, turning only when he spoke looked decidedly less friendly now and seemed uninterested in looking at him longer than necessary, much less speaking to him. "Emma… Mary Margaret…" He acknowledged them both though his eyes never left Cait. She wished they had, as long as he was looking at her she felt her own gaze glued to his. It seemed impossible to tear her eyes from him. A small part of her brain told her that this was weird, that it was obviously weird, and she should try to act...well, to not do this. But then another little voice reminded her that everyone here had been staring at her, earlier in the shop, Granny, the nurses, even some of the other patrons here at the diner when she'd first walked in. Whether she wanted to fully acknowledge it or not, that was definitely the truth, and maybe, just maybe, Jefferson's stare didn't stand out among all the others. At least, she hoped not.

"Papa? Who is this? Is this the girl you saved?" The little girl's voice broke the tension that was stretched between them and Cait was able to shake herself and look down as she spoke. She was maybe 10? Cait wasn't good at guessing children's ages. She was pretty and gripping his hand tightly, looking up at Jefferson as if he were the only thing in the world. Cait rather felt like she could sympathize with that in this moment, even if she wished she couldn't' have.

"Grace, this is Cait… She is the lady that I found on the road..." He paused a little, eyes finally glancing fully around to the other two women standing at the table before settling back on Cait. "Cait, this is my daughter, Grace." Cait felt her chest tighten. He was her father. What had she expected? The girl had called him Papa… More importantly, why did it matter?... She shoved away the thought and forced a smile to her lips, turning, as best she could toward Grace.

"Hi Grace, it's nice to meet you and yes, your… your Papa did save me." As out of sorts and unsure as she felt, it was hard for Cait not to smile fully. Grace was staring up at her father, complete adoration evident on her face as she gently tugged his hand and grinned up at him. He nodded silently, face softening into a smile. Grace turned back to Cait and beamed at her and the smile on Cait's lips widened up to her eyes; the girl's happiness was infectious.

"It's really nice to meet you Cait. I'm sorry you're hurt! You should have some of Granny's cake… that always makes me feel better, a least a little!" She was so genuine and kind that Cait felt her questioning and frustration melting away.

"Thanks, Grace. I'll remember that. Cake sounds pretty good after all of that hospital food." She wanted to keep looking at the girl, or anything other than her father, but she felt his gaze on her, and this impossible-to-ignore pull that had her tearing her eyes away to drag back up to his face.

"I wish I had known you'd be here… I could have bought your dinner." She gestured to the both of them as best she could. "It's not nearly enough but, it would make me feel better… I do owe you quite a bit."

Jefferson shook his head and did his little unsure, weight-shifting dance from foot to foot, glancing quickly between the three women at the table before settling back on her yet again.

"It's really not necessary… And we don't want to keep you from your meal... "He sounded formal almost, like he was being very careful about his words. Something in his body language, in the tone of his voice was so different than the way he had been a moment before, from the way he had spoken to her in the hospital even. It made Cait's chest tighten again and she suddenly felt very tired and irritable.

"Right…" It was all she could manage. She busied herself trying to put both crutches under her left arm and pull her chair out with the right. Distantly, she could hear Mary Margaret asking Grace about her pretty coat, sounding as if she was trying to distract herself, or maybe all of them from the awkward conversation. Cait ignored it, fumbling a little and putting a touch too much weight on her injured foot, a grimace breaking out onto her face. She could see Emma was moving around the table to help her, but she felt a hand on against her back, steadying her before Emma could reach her. She didn't look up, she knew it was Jefferson. He had a hand gripping the back of her upper arm, the other pulling the chair out from the table.

"Careful…" He murmured, his lips much closer to her ear than she had expected. She could feel his breath against the side of her face and a shiver tingling its way down her spine...She had the sensation again that she was both very aware of herself and of him but that everything else had fallen away from around them. She wondered if she seemed to be struggling to breath as much as she felt she was, or if the heat that was burning up her throat and into her cheeks was as bright red as she imagined. Jefferson stepped slightly more behind her, taking the crutches from under her arm and leaning them against the table and out of the way. Cait started to move toward the chair on her own and felt his hands suddenly at her waist. He pulled her back against him just a little, guiding her gently but firmly down. She realized she'd been gripping the table, hard; her fingers blanched white with the force and trembling now that she was sitting and still. In fact, it felt like her whole body was trembling and she couldn't look up, not at him, not at any of them, for fear of what might be showing on her face.

She could still hear Mary Margaret and Grace talking somewhere to the side of her, and feel Jefferson just behind her… The world around her seemed to be coming back into focus and he was moving again, settling her crutches a little more out of the way, around to the side of the table opposite the flow of traffic. Emma was standing still, where she'd stopped on her way around the table to help Cait, just in her field of vision. Cait finally took a deep breath and looked up. She immediately wished she hadn't. Something in Emma's face made it clear that this had appeared as strange as it had felt. The trembling grew a little worse and she felt pressed to try and recover.

"Thank you… I… I'm still a little unsteady on my feet…" She managed, her voice seeming to break the strange air that had settled over them up a little. Jefferson stepped up next to Grace again, his eyes dark and distant, expression a little frightening and difficult to read, the muscle in his jaw ticking away like the second hand on a clock.

"Don't worry about it… Come on Grace, it's time to head home." He reached a hand out and the little girl took it, giving a wave to Emma, Mary Margaret, and Cait.

"It was nice to meet you Cait…" She smiled and Cait gave her what she hoped was a genuine smile in return. "Bye Emma, see you on Monday Miss Blanchard!"

Jefferson didn't say anything he just nodded at them, his eyes lingering on Cait for just a heartbeat longer before he led Grace out of the courtyard and they turned onto the darkening street.

"What the hell was that about?" Emma and Mary Margaret had sat down, the former leaning across the table on her elbows, brows knitted together, looking at Cait as if she'd grown a second head. Cait didn't respond right away, she didn't really know how to… there was also the question of what *had* actually happened. Nothing, really, but at the same time, there was something obvious enough that the other two women had gleaned onto it and Cait felt that if she acknowledged it out loud, it would be much harder to ignore.

Cait had a week to think about why she'd gotten all jittery and out of sorts when this man had come to visit her. Sure, she should have certain level of appreciation and gratitude toward him, he'd taken time to help her when she'd needed it and goodness knows what might have happened to her if he hadn't. But his showing up in her dreams… well even that she could sort of explain away… she'd had head trauma and it was one of the few things she remembered from that night… but the way he'd held her hand and her gaze a moment too long. The way her stomach knotted, and her heart raced. It was stupid and foolish. She knew that… and she'd thought long and hard about it laying there in the hospital. Dr. Whale had said, when she'd asked him about Jefferson, he was the town shut-in. He said he'd spent a lot of time holed up in his… what had he called it? Mansion, and out walking at night, alone; confirming what Emma, too, had said of him. So that was it, she had decided... he was a little socially inept, that explained the weird handshake and the too-familiar touch. And she'd convinced herself that everything else was the combination of him having come to her aid, exhaustion, pain, and medication. Sitting here right now, the memory of his lips brushing against her hair when he spoke, the tingling at her waist where his hand had held her… she wasn't so sure. Maybe what she didn't want to admit was that an attractive man had helped her and now she had a little school-girl crush. Well, that was embarrassing. Even more so now that she knew he was a father… that meant Mom was likely somewhere close and judging by Grace, she was also likely gorgeous… And now not only had she embarrassed herself to herself, but she'd done it in front of other people… people who seemed to have taken note. Great Cait. You were already out of place here, way to really seal the deal.

"Earth to Cait!" Emma was waving a few fingers at her and Cait realized she'd drifted into her own head again. "Hello! Welcome back… Are you ok?" The woman's questioning look faltered a moment and was replaced with concern. "Are you dizzy or…?"

"No, no… I'm fine. Just, thinking. Sorry, what did you say?"

"Ok, good, I know Dr. Whale said you might still have some dizziness but…" She glanced at Mary Margaret and then back to Cait. "Seriously, what the hell was that little staring contest? And the weird little… I don't know, whatever that was. I don't know Jefferson that well but he looked like the world was ending when you stepped on your foot and then like he couldn't wait to get the hell out of here right after he sat you down..." They were now both looking intently at Cait who was feeling her cheeks flush again.

"Staring contest? I… I don't really know what you mean." She shrugged as if she had no idea what they were talking about. The waitress, Ruby, Mary Margaret called her, came by then. She set down three glasses of water and laid out menus and silverware. Cait hoped, in vain, that her presence would cause enough distraction for the topic to disappear when she was gone.

"Thanks Ruby… Ok, Cait. I know you don't me all that well, so let me let you in on a little secret. I'm really good at reading people, so I know you're lying and trying to act casual… You don't have to explain if you don't want to… but…" She paused, blowing out a breath of air, her intensity deflating with it. "It was just odd and… I don't know." She sat back a little in her chair, exchanging a glance with Mary Margaret before taking a sip of her water. "Jefferson doesn't get out and about much…" That seemed an interesting switch of gears to Cait, if in line with what she knew about the man. Maybe Emma had decided they didn't need to delve any further into the awkward encounter.

"He does more and more now that he has Grace…" Mary Margaret interjected. Cait quirked an eyebrow… has Grace? That was an interesting word choice. Maybe the girl was adopted? She found more and more questions bubbling up as the two women spoke but resolved to keep them to herself until they were done.

"Right, he does… but still, he doesn't exactly engage with people. I mean, I know that he found you so, you probably are grateful to him, which, I get… but…" She shrugged, splaying her arms out at her sides to indicate her confusion. "That just seemed… personal…" Emma hesitated again and gave Mary Margaret another long look before continuing. "Intimate? I don't know, maybe I misread it."

Cait shrugged again, taking a long drink of her water. Too long a drink, while she was trying to sift through her questions, her embarrassment at admitting to herself she might have a little crush on the man that saved her, the nagging issue of her questionable arrival here… "What did you mean by saying 'now that he has Grace'?" She settled on a question, finally, deflecting a little.

"He…" Mary Margaret started, fighting, what Cait thought, was the urge to look at Emma. The waitress appeared again then for their orders and Cait realized she hadn't even looked at the menu. She hastily glanced at it and ordered a burger and a slice of cake, looking expectantly at Mary Margaret as the girl moved away from the table, waiting for her to finish. "He only recently got custody of Grace, she was living with a... a foster family, for a while."

Cait was mulling this over, chewing absently on her bottom lip. Her knee-jerk reaction was that a man who would help someone he didn't know and then come to check on them later wasn't the kind of man who would do something to jeopardize having custody of his child. There was also the way that he and Grace had interacted in the brief moment she'd seen them together. They looked happy, and as if they had a wonderful relationship… but people's children didn't have to go live with foster families for no reason...This whole notion was unsettling and again, Cait couldn't shake the feeling that she was more concerned about why she was concerned than she was with actual issue at hand. She didn't know him, or these people sitting across from her, really… she wasn't even going to be here that much longer. She reminded herself she shouldn't even care, and it wasn't any of her business anyway… Unfortunately, that didn't stop her mouth from asking the next question before it had bothered to consult with her brain.

"So where is Grace's mother?" She instantly wished she hadn't asked. Both women had strange looks on their faces and she could tell they were fighting again not to look at each other.

"She passed away, a few years ago. Jefferson had to go away for work and that's when Grace had to go live with another family…" It was very cryptic and Cait got the distinct impression that she wasn't getting half of the real story, but she repeated her earlier conviction in her mind… not your business… you'll be out of here in a few days. Emma looked relieved, for her part, that Cait didn't press her any further on the topic.

"Oh, that's sad… ok." She didn't know what else to say, but she definitely knew she wanted to change the subject. "So, Mary Margaret… how long have you been teaching here?" She smiled, shaking her head faintly, trying to clear out all the other thoughts and simply enjoy the evening as she had intended. Mary Margaret answered the question happily and neither of them pressed Emma's earlier question about her interaction with Jefferson after that. It was nice to just talk, about the little town, about the school, about the food when it came. The cake was good, and it had made Cait feel better, even if only a little. It was refreshing for Cait to do something at least semi-normal… something that wasn't lying in a hospital bed dwelling on her situation, or her aches and pains, or dreaming the same strange, muddled dream over and over again. She found herself smiling and laughing easily with the two women, and in no time at all nearly two hours had passed.

"Well, I'm going to have to get going soon… I have papers to grade that I need to get to, if I want to have any kind of a weekend..." Mary Margaret was peering around to try and catch sight of the waitress, Ruby.

Emma nodded, sliding her plate away from her on the small table "We should probably get you back to Granny's, I'll walk you back around the front… my car's parked there anyway."

"Thanks Emma… I appreciate it. Oh!" Cait waved her hand a little, glancing up in time to see Ruby come through the door, grabbing her attention before she could turn to one of the other tables. "Got her" She smiled at Mary Margaret who asked the leggy brunette for the check when she made her way over.

When they were paid up and Emma had handed Cait her crutches, they parted ways at the street. Mary Margaret and Cait shook hands again, and despite the strange turn the evening had taken early on, she felt it had turned out alright, and she was glad to have at least a little distraction and company from the two women. Once they'd said their goodbyes, Emma and Cait turned the corner and headed back to the path that led to the front of the B&B, Emma looking at Cait as if she were trying to bore a hole through her skull and Cait pointedly ignoring her. Stepping up onto the porch, Emma finally spoke, and if Cait had been expecting to be grilled again, she was definitely surprised by what the blonde had to say.

"Look, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier… you looked, well, uncomfortable enough without me adding to it. It's just all kind of weird. You ending up here, whatever that 'thing' between you and Jefferson was tonight…" She looked like she wanted to say more, like she almost had, but there was something that stopped her, and she settled for opening the door for Cait. "Anyway… thanks for coming to dinner. I'll come by tomorrow around lunch… Granny said she'd check in on you in the morning. Have a good night."

Cait hadn't know what to say in response to all of that, so she'd just stayed quiet. She was feeling exhausted anyhow and thinking hard about anything had suddenly become very taxing. "Thanks… I appreciate you inviting me and… don't worry about it. Weird is definitely the right word for it…" She gave a little smile and shrugged. "I guess it wouldn't be my life if it wasn't a little weird." Cait hoped she was giving the impression that she was at least somewhat at ease with all of this, even if only to make Emma feel a little bit better. "I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight!"

When Cait was in her room, medicine taken, sweater and jeans exchanged for leggings and t shirt, tucked safely under the warm bedspread, she allowed her mind to wander just a bit. She closed her eyes and lay back, sinking into the soft pillows and replaying the evening. It didn't take much at all for her recall the sound of Jefferson's voice as it spoke to her, just inches away from her ear, or the feeling of his hands on her waist… the gentle touch as he guided her to the chair, the obvious strength there in the firm hold he had on her… the way her skin tingled beneath his fingers as if there hadn't been layers of clothing separating their skin… the way he'd pulled her back against him ever so slightly, flushing their bodies up to one another as he moved her. It felt suddenly quite a bit warmer than it had a few minutes before and another kind of warmth, familiar, and unwelcome was spreading through her causing her to sit up and throw the covers off of her body. "No." She said the word out loud without thinking about it. She was not going to lay here and fantasize about a meaningless moment, or some recluse who just happened to extend a little kindness her way. That's right… it was meaningless, just an act of kindness and she wasn't about to start being the girl who got hung up on some man because he'd just been nice. Especially not one who had a penchant for being a hermit and also had a daughter… There was obviously baggage there and Cait had no desire to find out what it was. At least that's what she told herself.

Reaching for her Surface she paused at a knock sounding from the door. A voice called out on the other side, Cait had nearly forgotten about Granny. "Don't worry about getting up dear, just wanted to make sure you didn't need anything before I turned in…"

"No thank you, I appreciate it. Have a good night." Cait called, pulling the tablet into bed with her and rolling onto her side. That was sweet of the older woman, and it was enough distraction to let her dive into her inbox, going through emails and tasks undisturbed by her earlier thoughts until the medication and her exhaustion did their job and lulled her into a deep, much needed sleep.

* * *

Jefferson was quiet on the walk home. Enough so that Grace questioned him about it as they were climbing the front steps of the house.

"Papa? Are you alright?" She hadn't let go of his hand all the way, like she knew something was bothering him and now, with her asking, he didn't know how to respond. So, for a moment, he didn't. He unlocked the door, ushered her inside and removed his coat, hanging it up and taking hers to hang as well.

"I'm fine. Just a little tired and…" He swallowed and glanced down at his watch. "And, it's getting pretty late so, you need to go upstairs and get ready for bed…" She gave him a look that said quite clearly, I know what you're doing, but she started up the stairs anyway.

"Ok… but it's Friday and I don't have school tomorrow... "She had stopped on the third stair up and was looking at him expectantly.

"Right… so I'll be up to read to you in just a little bit and tomorrow… we'll have our tea."

"Tea party!" She squealed, her words overlapping his. The girl couldn't stop herself, she hopped off the step and ran back up to him, throwing her arms around him and hugging him tight. She hadn't been back with her Papa for very long and she'd missed him so much while he was gone… the idea of having a tea party again made it feel like everything was going to be alright. Jefferson thought so too, wrapping his arms around his little girl and lifting her from her feet, carrying her back to the stairs and setting her up on them.

"Alright, now go get ready for bed…" He kissed her forehead and leaned against the bannister, watching her climb the stairs for a moment before turning and moving through the house, locking up and making sure the lights were off, ending in the kitchen where he was eyeing the liquor cabinet. He rubbed his hand over his face, thumb dragging across his lip as he thought. No, drinking wouldn't solve anything, and he was almost one hundred percent sure it would bring all of his feelings further to the forefront than he wanted them. So, he settled for a drink of water before heading upstairs to check and see if Grace was in bed.

When he knocked on the door he heard her voice, muffled, from the other side, telling him to come in. She was nestled under so many covers and in so many pillows that only her face stuck out. "Grace?" He pretended he couldn't see her. "Where are you?" He was looking everywhere on the bed except at her, kicking his boots off as he slid up onto the edge, taking up the large stuffed rabbit next to her by the shoulders. "Where is Grace? Are you hiding her?"

"I'm right here Papa!" A little hand shot up through the covers and grabbed his arm, tugging him and the rabbit more fully into the bed as she giggled wildly at their game.

"Oh! There you are…" He smiled, settling in next to her, one arm wrapping around her shoulders and pulling her close against him. "I thought the bed had swallowed you up!" He reached over with this free hand and grabbed her side lightly, tickling her and making her giggle all the more. After a moment, when she had her breath back and had settled down against him, looking up at him sleepily he began to tell her a story. It was a story about a young man who was always looking for something. He travelled constantly, searching, and no matter how many rare and interesting relics he found, no matter how much treasure he acquired, he never seemed satisfied. Until one day, he had a little girl and suddenly he realized that what he'd been looking for was her. It was silly, and obviously a heavily edited version of his life, but Grace loved it. She loved hearing about his antics, the ones he could tell her about, in all of those strange and unusual lands, and even more about how none of the prizes he'd ever recovered were as precious to him as her. They never talked about the fact that they were the characters in the story, but he was sure they didn't need to. Tonight, he hadn't even made it halfway in when she was fast asleep at his side, her arms wrapped around the rabbit, one hand gently gripping his shirt. Jefferson watched her for a while, beautiful, peaceful, and sleeping soundly.

When he thought it was safe he kissed her on the forehead and slid out of the bed as quietly as possible. Picking up his shoes on the way out, he turned off the lights and shut the door behind him. Before he could think too much about it he was down the stairs and slipping back into his boots and jacket, heading out the door and down the steps, toward the familiar path he walked so often. The one he hadn't been on for more than a week, since the night he'd found Cait.

Cait… he'd convinced himself he'd never see her again, that he never wanted to, and yet, how he thought he could manage that and try to live any kind of life out in the town he didn't know. It was foolish, at best. Even more foolish was the way he'd behaved tonight. He'd made an ass of himself yet again. No wonder people thought he was mad… his moods swung wildly and despite his trying, they seemed to be hell bent on showing in his face, his body language, his voice… no matter how he worked to appear neutral, impassive.

But still, it had felt good to see her. Her hair had been down and curled gently, the red standing out against the pale hue of her skin, her green eyes shining and more alive than he'd seen them yet. Even with the yellowing bruise around her eye, half hidden by carefully applied makeup, her awkward movements on the crutches, bandaged wrist and foot… she was beautiful. He had to admit that to himself. Stunning really. Literally and figuratively. The sight of her had all but frozen him in place tonight. She was smiling and looking happy and he hadn't been able to breathe properly, and even Grace's words had momentarily taken a back seat… and that was something that just didn't happen. More than seeing her though, more than the way her looking up at him had stolen the breath right from his chest… it had been his touching her again that had nearly undone him.

He wasn't going to. He had rallied, tried to recover, decided he and Grace would have a nice, polite conversation and then be on their way. But he'd overdone it, going from longing stares to indifference and the latter had obviously made something of a mark on Cait because she'd stiffened, her face hardening with resolve, her voice changing as well. He'd watched her eyes drop down away from his as she tried to get herself to her chair. It had made his heart ache. He was trying his best to seem as if he was simply being courteous but ultimately disinterested and the moment he succeeded he wanted to take it back. She'd been so focused on trying not to look at him again, to seem like she too didn't care that she'd mis stepped and put her weight on her injured foot. She didn't cry out or make a scene, but he'd seen the pain flash across her face and he just hadn't been able to stop himself.

Somewhere in his periphery he'd seen Emma move too, and Mary Margaret - he didn't want to dwell on her too long, she wasn't even going to attempt to be cordial to him, and he really couldn't blame her - was trying to engage Grace. He was thankful for that, spare the girl seeing her father make a fool of himself more than she already had. But in that moment, it hadn't really mattered. He just didn't want to see the woman in pain. So, he'd steadied her, and pulled her chair out and she'd been so close, he could smell the shampoo she'd used, that and something else, something that was just her, he guessed. It was intoxicating and selfishly he'd wanted to keep her close, even if just for a minute or two. In truth it was less than that, but in that fleeting second, where he'd had his hands at her waist, her body pulled back against his… Her head had rested just beneath his chin, the curve of her back fitting against his chest. It had felt so right, so effortless, like that was exactly the way they were meant to be, pressed together. And that thought had threatened to take him over; it had filled him up and was perilously close to spilling out, so he'd covered it with the only things stronger he could drum up. Darkness, anger… his guilt. He'd forced his mind to those things, to that place where he kept them so that he would be able to tear himself away. It was a dangerous game that, forcing himself from extreme to the other. He was always worried that in his guilt, in that darkness, he might not be able to find his way out… that he'd be stuck there. And what good would he be then? The man that lived there wasn't the man that Grace deserved as a father, and he wasn't the kind of man that someone like Cait deserved either, not that he was at all that person anyway… but still. He couldn't do that again. He needed to get himself in order. He needed to be able to control himself, this… whatever it was, so that when he inevitably saw the woman again he wasn't dragged under by this overwhelming urge to be near or or his own fight or flight response to it.

Anywhere else in the world he wouldn't have had much more to fear… she'd have been working her way to a place where she was well enough to leave. No doubt she was doing that anyhow. But, he wasn't even certain she could. He didn't know. They couldn't. And what would that mean? What if she couldn't leave Storybrooke, and what if they couldn't go home? Was he just going to be stuck here? It wasn't the end of the world, stuck in this little hamlet in Maine, at least he had Grace… but if this woman was stuck here too… It made him feel sick. He just didn't have that kind of self control - he couldn't be pulled in that many directions and survive. Before, he'd had one goal only, Grace. She was still a goal; keep her safe and happy and get her home. But he had also had to add something to that, be the father Grace deserved, be stable, be sane, makeup for your mistakes… That was a boat he was already constantly bailing water out of, this new, added strain would sink it, of that he was sure.

But maybe he'd done that to himself… maybe he had been wrong in resolving to stay away from Cait, in trying to ignore her. Despite the strength of its pull surely this was just infatuation. Afterall, he hadn't seen a new face in almost thirty years… and even at his worst, Jefferson had never really wished to cause anyone real harm (the few times he had, intentionally or not, still plagued his mind, even now), and she'd been hurt and that deep desire to protect and care had bubbled up in him. So he felt something toward a pretty, new face, one that he'd saved. Ok, he could live with that. And maybe, just maybe, denying himself contact had made her sway over him stronger than it might be otherwise. Surely she had flaws, surely she was imperfect. Maybe if he allowed himself to be around her he would see those, at the least, she wouldn't be new anymore. Maybe he could make her fade into the background like all the other faces here, maybe… and this he struggled to even allow his mind to admit, he'd just seem something friendly in her, something relatable… maybe his loneliness had finally caught up to him. Not in a romantic way as he'd first thought, but just simply the absence of company, the company of a peer, of a friend.

By the time he'd resolved to try he was already walking back up the drive. He'd taken a shorter path tonight, somehow unable to bring himself to that place on the road where he'd found the woman who had taken up all of his thoughts as he'd moved around the quiet, dark edges of Storybrooke. That he hadn't thought of, and maybe his poor, overtaxed brain wasn't quite ready to deal with why he would avoid that place, so he let it go. He had dealt with a few things though, much to his own satisfaction. And, as he crawled into bed, a sense of control, greater than he'd felt in a while, settled over him. He wasn't going to ignore her or wish her away. He also wasn't going to ignore his feelings or wrap them up so tight that they burst and caused him to act out or behave inappropriately. He was going to try and get to know her, to prove to himself that she was just another girl and that he was a stable, capable man. And when he'd done that he could move on and get back to what was actually important to him, getting Grace home, and getting their lives back on track.


	4. Chapter 4

Hello Everyone! Sorry it's been quite a few days since the last chapter... I'm winging it a bit with this and that plus being swamped at work has slowed down the process. Anyway, not much to say except enjoy and thanks for the reviews! :)

* * *

Cait woke with a start. Her heart was beating out a wild rhythm in her chest, her hands were trembling faintly, and there was a trickle of sweat dripping down her forehead. Grabbing for her phone, she checked the time… 6:15 AM. She laid back on the bed with a flop, blowing out a tired breath of air. She hadn't slept well at all last night. Her dreams had morphed from what had become the standard, recurring loop of images from her accident to something much darker… something sinister. That had been unexpected… Over the weekend she'd managed to relax a little, she thought… the change from hospital room to B&B helping to facilitate that. Friday night had seen her best sleep yet; a combination of mental and physical exhaustion that saw her most of the way through the night. The dreams had returned though, creeping into her brain in the early hours of the morning... the same that she'd been having since she arrived. She had dreamed of other things too, well, actually, just of one other thing. Her most recent interaction with Jefferson had been visiting her the past couple of nights… nothing but brief flashes of their encounter at the diner; his hands on her waist, the sound of his voice in her ear, the warmth that spread through her… Until last night…Last night her sleep had been plagued not only by the recurring dream of the accident and glimpses of Jefferson but by something else. That terrible thing that had woken her just now… It gripped her in the darkness, choked her, sent tremors of fear like icy finger tips down her spine. The dream hadn't shown her any particular thing, there was no monster to cause the feelings, per say, but whatever it was was lurking just on the edge of her consciousness, stalking her with some half remembered terror that was trying to make itself known.

Cait sat up again after a few minutes, when her breathing had returned to normal,and some of the fog had lifted from her brain, deciding not to dwell on this new nightmare. She stood up out of the bed, her hip bracing her against the nightstand as she reached for her crutches. Carefully she made her way over to the bathroom and, after some working and maneuvering, climbed into the shower. She sat on the little seat that had been placed in for her and let the hot water run down over her as her mind wandered back to her dreams. Cait hoped maybe this was just a fluke, a one-off… born of her frustrations... Or maybe she hadn't really been tired enough to go to bed when she did, she definitely wasn't as exhausted as she'd been… she hadn't really done much on Sunday, stayed in her room mostly. She'd decided on Saturday that since she still had some time to wait out her injuries she might try to find something here to write about…so she'd hid inside for the weekend and brainstormed over the pamphlets in the lobby and her own limited knowledge of Storybrooke. She'd all but abandoned the story she had been working on the day of her accident and she wasn't ready to face that again, so she'd needed something new. Cait wasn't really bound to any topic or thing anyhow, though most of her work revolved around places and people, their history… she wrote freelance and for her own blog. The blog had been an accident, more of a place to catalogue her work, particularly what didn't make it into other publications, but it was a great way to show off content that she was passionate about, but might not necessarily sell elsewhere. She had a pretty decent following and the blog definitely aided in providing an extra flow of cash, so she was sure that there was something in this sleepy, little, seaside town that her readers would be interested in. It was quaint, and quaint was definitely in right now.

When the water temperature had cooled a little, a signal to Cait to snap out of her thoughts and actually shower, she set about washing her hair and body, and even managed to give her legs a shave. It was winter and she wasn't wearing anything to show them off anytime soon but it made her feel more like herself and she had the time. After carefully climbing out of the shower, towelling off herself and hair, she made her way back into her room where she pulled on a pair of black leggings and an oversized, off-the-shoulder emerald green sweater.

Climbing back onto the bed she turned on her Surface and combed through her inbox, responding to a couple of requests for pieces from an online magazine and a local Williamsburg publication she often wrote for. She sent her Mom an email, just an update on how she was doing and how she'd had an idea for a story and might be staying a while longer… it wasn't entirely untrue, and Cait felt a little better about telling this particular lie. And, having sent the email, she wouldn't have to worry about remembering to tell her later. When that was done she opened up a new document and pulled her pen out, setting about writing an outline for whatever it was she was going to put together on Storybrooke. This was usually her process… she would settle on a general idea and then write down everything she could think of to do with it; all the facts she knew, all the ones she didn't, things that were probably just gossip but interesting, her guesses about people and places, her feelings, views, biased and not, truth and speculation. It helped to her to get absolutely everything down. Then, once that was done she'd go back through it, look for ideas and themes that stood out, let the story present itself… and then, then she could start to research, start to shape the story into something.

She had only been writing for about a half hour when a knock sounded at the door. "It's open…" She called, not looking up from the screen in front of her. She heard the hinges creak as it opened and closed, footsteps falling heavily on the old, wooden floor. She was engrossed in her work, the pen scribbling smoothly over the screen, leaving her slender, looping cursive behind. The bed dipped beneath the weight of the visitor who settled behind her and leaned forward, over her shoulder.

"What's this?" The raspy, low voice made her pause, the pen hovering in the air above the tablet. A hand snaked its way around her abdomen, pulling her back against a firm chest, and into strong arms.

"I'm working on a new story…" Another hand sliding around her neck, fingers loosely grasping her throat and tilting her head back and to the side interrupted her. She could see Jefferson looking down at her, blue eyes roaming over her face, half veiled by a curtain of dark lashes. He held her like that a moment, the grip on her throat, while gentle, was distinctly possessive and it caused a familiar tightening low in her stomach.

"Shhhh…" He quieted her, though she'd already stopped speaking, and leaned over, turning her face so that he could press his lips against hers. His mouth was warm and soft and she felt his tongue flick against her, asking for permission… which she readily gave. He deepened the kiss then, but only for a moment, and pulled away, righting her… though his hand stayed curled around her neck, tilting her head forward some as he trailed kisses over her cheek and to her ear. She was trying to write again, but with no success. She had started a sentence but Jefferson's teeth dragging against her earlobe sent it right out of her head, and she nearly dropped the pen.

"Wait…" She pushed at him with one hand, gathering up the tablet and pen and passing them to him to set on the nightstand. He did and immediately resumed his position, holding her and planting a trail of burning kisses down her neck.

"Thought you'd see it my way… after all… All work and no play…" He murmured. She felt the words against her skin as much as she heard them. Now that her computer was out of the way, there was nothing to hinder or confine them on the bed and he made use of the expanded space. Cait found herself very suddenly on her back, underneath him, his jacket pooling on the floor next to the bed as he shrugged out of it and climbed over her. He made short work of her clothing too, tossing it aside and replacing it with his hands and mouth. She was on fire, her body burning up wherever he touched her… it felt familiar in a way, and definitely right, though she couldn't recall feeling this kind of intensity with any man she'd been with before. This, whatever it was, belonged specifically to him… she knew it, and worse, so did he. She tried to reach up and unbutton his shirt, her fingers trembling and fumbling with the buttons and he batted her hands away easily, drawing them up above her head. He had her pinned then, one of his hands gripping both of her wrists and holding them in place, the other scouting along her body ahead of his kisses… He moved painfully slow, covering each area of exposed skin, nipping at her here and there, revelling in the little sounds she made as she squirmed beneath him. And just when she wasn't sure how much more she could stand, the sensation was gone. He released his hold on her hands and she felt him shift above her… she hadn't even realized she'd closed her eyes. Blinking them back open she managed to lift her head up, looking down her body to see where he was, why he'd stopped... He was poised between her legs… just at the place where her thighs met. His face was hovering over her, tilted to the side, a cheshire cat grin stretching across his mouth as he gave her a moment to fully understand his intentions, to prepare herself… She wasn't prepared, she was already spiraling out of control, and she knew, with certainty, as she watched his face turn down, felt his lips connect with her skin, that she was about to lose it completely.

 _KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK._ Cait sat, bolt upright, nearly knocking her tablet from the bed as she did. She was gasping, breath coming too quick, confusion strangling her senses. She looked down… She was still on the bed, Surface beside her, completely clothed… Jesus, had that been a dream? She pressed her thighs together, feeling an unmistakable dampness, heat crawling up her throat and into her cheeks. The knocking sounded again. She shook her head,glancing at her phone screen as she scooted to the edge of the bed. 8:45 AM. She must have fallen asleep writing…

"Coming…" She shouted, finally, and scrambled to take up her crutches, cursing herself for being weak and evidently, wanton. She was still flushed, hot, and a little foggy from the impromptu nap and incredibly vivid dream; she prayed this was just a courtesy visit from Granny and not someone she'd have to open the door to. When she flipped the lock and backed up to pull the door open a little she immediately wished she'd still been asleep or dreaming, at least. She didn't particularly want to have that dream again, pleasant as it had been… She knew she shouldn't be seeing Jefferson in her dreams, especially not those kind of dreams, but if she'd still been asleep, at least she wouldn't have been standing there, still recovering from her little fantasy, with its object leaning against her door frame.

* * *

Jefferson had hesitated before opening the door to Granny's B&B. Rightly so, Ruby was near the check-in counter and gave him a startled and curious look as he entered.

"Which room is Cait's?" He was being a bit blunt but he didn't want to give himself the opportunity to change his mind. The scantily clad brunette gave him another look and then gestured to the hall near the stairs.

"All the way at the end... " She was still watching him as he nodded his thanks and turned to go, stopping his movement with a question. "You found her, right?"

He turned back to look at Ruby, nodding again. She made a little face, like she was saying 'hmm' and then shrugged, heading around the counter to the door that connected the B&B and the diner.

Jefferson watched her go, wondering why she'd bother asking, it seemed she already knew. He shook his head and started down the hall, walking purposefully to the door Ruby had indicated and knocking, without any hesitation this time.

To say that Cait looked surprised to see him would have been an understatement. She looked very surprised, and uncomfortable, almost as if she'd been caught doing something she shouldn't have been doing… He couldn't dwell on that though… That idea, coupled with her standing there, flushed cheeks, damp hair dishevelled and floating wildly around her face, sweater slipping down to reveal the smooth skin of her shoulder… It made his mind wander to places he couldn't allow it to go. He did let his eyes do a little wandering though, moving up her form from her bare feet to her skin-tight legging clad calves and thighs, past the sweater, up to the now familiar heart-shaped face, full lips, green eyes… He found his gaze drawing back down after, following the curve of her shoulder to where it disappeared under the fabric of the sweater… he couldn't see another shirt or even the strap of a tank top or bra… and he couldn't stop himself from wondering what, if anything, she was wearing underneath it...

"Jefferson?" Her voice was a little shaky, and as it snapped his eyes back up to her face he again wondered what was going on behind that door before she'd opened it.

"Hi… Ah…" He was trying to recover now, he'd been looking at her too long without saying anything. "Sorry… Are you ok?" He tried to turn it around a little, and it wasn't completely insincere, she did look a little out of breath, or something…

"Yeah, sorry, just… I got out of the shower and then…" She glanced over her shoulder a the bed. "I guess I dozed off again… I don't know. The knocking just, it sort of startled me. That's all…" She gave him a small smile and then seemed to remember something. "Oh, I'm sorry, do you… want to come in? I didn't mean to make you just stand here…" She hobbled backward, letting the door open to allow him to enter. He returned the smile and stepped into the room. He supposed that explained why she looked so out of sorts, at least he could stop forming his own conclusions, which had been straying into highly inappropriate territory. He heard the door shut behind him and watched as she gestured to the little sofa. "Um, have a seat… sorry for the mess, I… I wasn't really expecting anyone…" She was blushing again. He had to fight to keep the smile off of his face; he didn't know why showing up at her door to find her blushing that way gave him such a thrill, but it did, it made his heart beat just a little faster despite all of his reasoning and the little pep talks he'd given himself on the way over.

"Thank you." He sat down and looked around a little more, glancing back over to her when she sat, carefully, on the opposite end of the sofa, propping her crutches against it, in between them. He cleared his throat, "I haven't been in any of these rooms before… it's nice… it's…"

"Pink!" She finished for him and laughed a little when he grinned at her. Both their eyes sparkling with humor, meeting for a long moment and then dropping away from each other; Jefferson's to wander the room, Cait's down to her lap.

"Yeah, it's very pink… Grace would love it." He settled into the couch and crossed his arms, trying to fight the urge to fidget with his coat or scarf. "So, I just, I thought… Um…" His words didn't seem to want to come out now, at least, not as he intended them. Hadn't he spent a long while convincing himself she was just like any other woman? Not special, just normal. Wasn't this how he was going to prove it? Getting to know her, seeing her as unremarkable? The moment she'd opened the door all of his sense of calm and control had gone right out and now it was a struggle to get it all back. "Have you eaten yet?" He managed, at length.

"Um, no, I haven't…" She looked a little surprised again but not put off, and she seemed to be less breathless than she was before. That was good.

"I thought maybe we could get something to eat… Just at Granny's…" He gestured toward the door. "Maybe talk? I ah… we don't get many new faces here and… I wasn't sure if anyone was checking on you or..." He swallowed, tongue flicking out to wet his lips "You've been on my mind a little since I found you and… the other night at the diner… I wasn't really myself so…" He was definitely rambling a little now, but still, she hadn't recoiled or given him any indication she objected. Maybe he could salvage this, put the awkwardness aside.

"That sounds… really nice." She smiled at him. "As long as you don't mind me looking… well…" She gestured to herself "Like such a mess… I don't think I can stomach battling anymore clothing today." She gently shook her braced wrist at him and laughed a little "I only just did make it this morning…"

"Sounds harrowing," he grinned at her, nodding after a moment. "Do you need to do anything or?" He stood up, smoothing out his coat and leaning down to hand her the crutches when she shook her head 'no' and started to stand. One thing he had resolved to do, and he meant it, was to be careful about touching her. He didn't want to get wrapped up in that sensation and he thought, if he could avoid it, it might be just that much easier to have a semi normal conversation with the woman. He wasn't going to let her hurt herself but, she was capable and had no trouble standing and getting situated on her own.

"Ready…" She smiled, making her way toward the door. She paused next to a console table, slipping her purse over her shoulder and tucking her phone into it. "Ok...nearly ready" She cast another smile at him over her shoulder, as he stepped up to the door, waiting. She was busy slipping her uninjured foot into her boot, which was no easy task, but she managed. "Done!"

"It's a good thing, any longer and we'd be having lunch" He deadpanned, chuckling to himself when he heard a giggle escape her lips as she turned back toward the door. He watched her a moment, and then opened it and let her step through - the laughter somehow breaking up some of the tension he'd been feeling, giving his nerves a little bit of a rest. And not making physical contact was definitely helping him… Just as the little moment of banter helped too. Jefferson enjoyed a little witty repartee… Good conversation had been in short supply these 28 years, so maybe, just maybe, this was going to be ok. Jefferson thought it might be better than ok actually, and for heartbeat, the prospect of simply having a friend was as exciting as anything else had been in a very long time.

He found that he was smiling, at that thought, without his knowing it, and was glad that she was busy locking her room door and couldn't see. When she was done they carefully made their way through the lobby and down the hall that lead to the diner. He opened the door for her and the bright, morning light from the windows upfront flooded in, illuminating the mostly empty interior. Ruby and Granny were both behind the bar. A disgruntled looking man in a beanie was sat at a table up front, newspaper splayed out in front of him, and a few other residents were scattered about tables here and there. Almost everyone one of them looked up when they entered and for the first time in a long time, Jefferson was sure they weren't just staring at him. Although, he was sure he didn't help. Not only was Cait a newcomer, which should have been virtually impossible to begin with; she was the second newcomer in a fairly short time… the last one having created quite a ruckus, although she'd been the catalyst for the curse lifting, so that was positive at least… but more than that… Cait shouldn't have been here, and now that she was, she was out in public with him. That was something he hadn't given much thought to. He knew he didn't have the best reputation, and even that was putting it mildly, but he hadn't really considered that people might make misjudgements about her if she were with him. He felt his chest tighten a little and wondered if maybe this had all been a mistake after all. Granny, having slipped over to them, interrupted that thought though with a cheerful hello. One he was certain wasn't for his benefit.

"Cait… oh good to see you out and about again. I was worried with you holed up in that room all weekend... " Cait smiled at her and ducked her head a little.

"I got caught up writing and doing some work… I do that from time to time… and the room has a lovely view of the forest... Besides, seems like I cause a little bit of a scene every time I go out…" Jefferson's eyes widened and he thought that his face must look at least a little like Granny's did in that moment… shocked. That was a fairly blunt thing to say, though it wasn't at all wrong. He could see Granny doing a mental dance, trying to figure out how to dissuade Cait of that thought and failing.

"Oh no dear… we just don't get many new people, especially not ones limping around on crutches…" Granny cast a quick, sideways glance at Jefferson, her smile faltering just a little before returning, brighter than before. "Anyway, sit yourselves down and Ruby will come take your orders." She shooed them towards a cluster of tables in the back corner and headed back around the counter, Ruby passing her with menus in hand.

Cait slid into a booth and he sat down opposite of her, shrugging out of his coat. He was wearing a navy sweater underneath, a scarf of navy and dark green wrapped around his neck. He left the scarf in place and tried to get comfortable in the booth, but over Cait's head he could see that the other patrons were still openly looking their way. Damn.

"Here you go! You're looking lots better Cait!" Ruby sounded genuinely sweet when she said it, setting the menus down in front of them and sliding silverware over. "I'll get your tea, Jefferson…" She didn't look at him when she spoke, her eyes fixed on Cait, who was looking down at the breakfast menu. "How about for you? Coffee? Juice?"

"Oh no… tea for me as well, please." Cait smiled up at Ruby and then across to Jefferson. "I tried to get into coffee but… just not for me." She made a little bit of a face "Too bitter. Thanks Ruby" The brunette nodded and was off to get their drinks, leaving the table silent for a moment before Cait spoke again. "Tea hmm? Glad it's not just me… Tea definitely isn't the thing in my neck of the woods… well, at least, hot tea isn't. Sweet tea… that's something else entirely." The smile she gave him made his heart flutter, he thought of Grace, the way her smiles warmed him, he was evidently a sucker for a good smile.

"Your neck of the woods?" He repeated the phrase, leaning forward some on his elbows, resting his chin in his hands. "Down… south?" He quirked an eyebrow, one corner of his mouth tilting up as well. He'd had plenty of time to get acquainted with this world's ins and outs; this country, the state, the area around their little town… He'd always been something of a bookworm anyhow, so reading up on their new home had been an easy way to pass some of the time.

"Yes!" She bobbed her head up and down, chewing absently on her bottom lip. "I guess my accent gave it away?" She was smiling, as if she was used to that particular tell, her eyes glued to his until Ruby stepped back up, a tray laden with cups, tea bags, and a steaming pot held on her arm.

"Here you go…" Ruby set it all down and got it situated on the table, waiting patiently as they both scrambled to look over the menus and order. When she was gone they picked the conversation back up easily. Cait told him about her home in Georgia… about moving around some after college, where she currently was in Williamsburg and how she liked being surrounded by so much history. She told him about her job, her writing, and even that she thought she might get something interesting out of Storybrooke. He had almost stopped her then, thinking to warn her not to write anything on the town, and certainly not to tell anyone she was planning to… he couldn't imagine what Regina or Mr. Gold might have to say about that… but he'd settled for changing the subject a little, back her to blog and other work. After that she'd asked what he did… that had been a little bit of a struggle… he'd told her he used to work acquiring rare artifacts for high profile collectors, that's how he was able to not work now, how he had such a big place here in Storybrooke. She seemed to accept it and more than that, was a little fascinated with what she thought sounded like a wonderful adventure… he had told he'd had a few of those, others not so much. She'd called him a regular Indiana Jones and they'd both laughed. The laughter seemed to come easier and easier and the conversation had flowed from there, even the stares from the others in the diner were forgotten. They talked about nothing, the town mostly, and they ate, and talked a little more. By the time Ruby brought the check over Jefferson wasn't sure what there had been to be nervous about at all… Talking to Cait was as easy as talking to himself, though maybe that wasn't the best analogy… it just felt natural. She was kind and funny, smart… and a little blunt and no-nonsense, which he found he quite liked. She was certainly a breath of fresh air and now that he had overcome this hurdle he couldn't stop himself from wanting to spend more time with her. He still wasn't entirely sure that she could leave if she wanted to, but she didn't know that, and who knows, maybe she could. If that was true, he wanted to spend more time with her before she left...and if it wasn't, well that didn't change anything, he would just get to have more time, that's all.

"So, I thought maybe you'd like to come over, for tea… Decent tea… not that stuff Granny serves." He shrugged, propping himself against the wall in the hallway next to her room. They had a little argument over his paying for their meal, Cait frustratedly claiming that she was the one who owed him, and jokingly accusing he and Ruby of being in league against her when the waitress had ceded to him and not her. After that they'd made a very slow walk back through to the B&B to her door, which she was unlocking now as he spoke. "You don't have to but… I mean, I have a car as well, I could pick you up, I know… I wouldn't want you walking all that way on your foot…"

Cait stood up, looking at him as the door swung open. She was chewing on her lip again, he was trying not to stare. "I would like that… when were you thinking?" She turned and headed through the door, spinning back around to face him and wave him in. He only came to the door, leaning in the frame. He didn't want to push it, or risk ruining a good thing..."I mean, I'm really busy of course but… I can probably pencil you in." She added, her tone teasing.

"Ah, lucky me…" He teased back, though he meant it more than he might like to admit. "Tomorrow? Grace will be at school all day so, any time after 8 or before 3… I mean, not that you couldn't come over when she's there but…" He didn't want to ramble again so he just stopped. Somewhere between leaving the diner and arriving at Cait's door all his calm confidence had left him… at least, it had hidden itself in the face of asking to see her again… And anyway, hadn't he been much smoother when talking to women before? Jefferson had certainly been no stranger to the fairer sex, of course, that had changed when he'd gotten married and had Grace but… wasn't this a 'riding a bike' scenario… His younger, wilder self would have been appalled at the trouble he was having, especially when he kept reminding himself that he didn't even have any nefarious intentions here… It wasn't like he was trying to get her to come over and go to bed… not that he would say no to that… No! No, he was trying to be friends so, this shouldn't be that hard. It wasn't that hard.

"Tomorrow's great… and I understand. You want to spend time with her… I think that's really… lovely." She shrugged and he could tell she meant it. He let out the breath he'd been holding and nodded, his spirits lifting again as she agreed.

"So, I'll pick you up in the morning? After I drop Grace off, maybe?" She was nodding at him and then turning to the console table just inside the door. He watched her pull a sheet from a small notepad and take up a pen, scrawling her name and a set of numbers down before handing it to him. He took it from her, looking down at the paper. Her phone number.

"I assume you have a cell phone? This is mine, maybe you can just… call me when you're on the way?" She said it in a way that made Jefferson think she was trying very hard to be casual and that alone made his stomach flutter. The fact that she was going to come spend time with him, alone in his home made more than his stomach flutter, and he worked very hard to ignore all of it, at least until he wasn't standing in front her any longer.

"Yeah, that's perfect. I'll call." He smiled at her and stepped back out of the doorway. "Good luck with the writing… I'll… I'll see you tomorrow." He finished quickly, giving her a wave and turning around to hid the wide grin that had broken out onto his face. It was stupid, he knew, but he couldn't help it and just for this moment, at least, he didn't want to.

"Come in!" Cait was propped on the sofa, re-wrapping her ankle when the knock came to the door, a familiar voice on the other side calling out to her. The door opened a moment after she'd replied, Emma stepping inside and shutting the it behind her.

"Hey!" The blonde was wearing essentially the same outfit Cait always saw her in, it was almost like a uniform of sorts… thin, long-sleeved shirt under that dark red, leather jacket, fitted pants, and tall boots. Cait was still in her sweater and leggings and had nearly finished with her ankle, watching as Emma pulled a chair up and took a seat.

"Hey! How's it going?" Cait finished and leaned back into the corner of the sofa, smiling over to Emma who was looking a little more stern than expected.

"Pretty good. How are you feeling? I see the ankle's ok… how about your wrist? Had any dizzy spells?" Cait wondered if something was actually wrong, or maybe the woman was just tired, or having a long day.

"Yeah, I'm ok. Ankle's alright… wrist is feeling really good, can't wait to get the clear to lose this brace. Dizziness isn't bad… sometimes if I stand or sit up too fast but… nothing severe. Headaches are clearing up as well…" Cait answered honestly even though this was nearly the same conversation they'd been having each afternoon since she'd been released on Friday.

"Good. I heard you went over to the diner for breakfast…" Ok, so we were getting right to it. Cait wasn't sure why that was news worthy of traveling to the sheriff but, she supposed, or hoped, that maybe someone had mentioned it to Emma knowing she was looking in on Cait.

"Yeah…" Cait was picking at a nonexistent piece of lint on her sweater, finding it difficult to look at Emma. The woman's gaze was fixed firmly on her and belied the casual tone she was trying to take with the conversation. "Jefferson came by and we had breakfast next door… I'm going to his house for tea tomorrow." She didn't really know why she'd given up that information, and without even being asked, but there it was.

"Wait, what?" Emma's eyes were wide, something strange flickering across them. "You are going to Jefferson's house, tomorrow during the day, alone, to drink tea?" She laid it out as if there was something in that statement that should have been obviously amiss, but, Cait couldn't see how visiting someone for tea was such a cause for alarm.

"Yeah, he's going to pick me up after he drops Grace off at school...that way I don't have to try and walk. Probably won't be gone long… I've been working on some writing… I want to be as productive as possible while I'm stuck here and… I'm sure he has things to do." She paused, watching a series of emotions move over Emma's face until it finally settled on the slightly negative side of neutral. "I mean… he's just concerned about me… he did find me, after all. And I know you think there's some weird thing because of Friday but there isn't. He's just a little socially awkward I think so... " She shrugged. She didn't know why she felt like she had to justify herself to this woman, or why she was being so… well, defensive.

"Look… it's just that… Jefferson has a bit of a sordid past… ok?" Emma was clearly being extremely careful about choosing her words. "He's not necessarily well thought of here and… I know he found you and it was nice of him and it was nice of him to check in on you too. I just, I don't want you to…" To what? If asked, even Emma wouldn't have been certain how she was going to finish that sentence, Cait certainly didn't know.

"I realize that I've been a little helpless here in some ways and I can't say enough how thankful I am for all of your help and kindness… but...I am a grown woman. And I'm not the worst judge of character, even if I'm not the best… Maybe he's just lonely… and feels like we have some kind of connection… I don't know. But he's nice enough and I owe him. Ok?" So maybe that was downplaying it a bit, but Emma did not need to know all of the various thoughts and feelings that ran through Cait when Jefferson was around, she definitely didn't need to know about the appearance he'd made earlier in her dream. " So I'm going. I have your number, I can call if anything goes wrong which...I have no idea why it would but... " She put her hands out, palms upturned as both a plea to Emma to acquiesce and as if to say deal with it. Emma muddled Cait's words over for a few moments in silence, looking down at her hands. It went so long that Cait wasn't sure if she were stuck wanting to say more about Jefferson or if there were something else going on…

"Ok. But there's something else…" Ah-ha. So she was right… Emma was leaning forward now, elbows on her thighs. "You haven't… been able to remember anything else… about the accident, have you?" Emma asked, trying to lighten her tone again. Cait wasn't convinced, there was something very serious beneath the mask of casual questioning.

"No I…" She wondered if she should tell Emma about the new nightmare she'd had… but what was there to tell? It was nothing, darkness, fear… that wasn't really worth telling, was it? "I haven't remembered anything more… I keep dreaming about it, but it's just the stuff I told you about before. I remember leaving the house, sitting down outside under the tree. I was going to write, I had all my stuff in my bag and then… then I woke up and Jefferson found me. That's it…" She fought the urge to shrug again. This was a sore subject. In over a week she had no more clue as to how she'd gotten here than she'd had the first night. "Have you found anything? I mean… you checked the road where he found me right?" Surely the Sheriff, who had been one of the first people she'd spoken with upon waking in the hospital would have looked into it… this was the same person who'd thought it suspicious enough to council Cait to not alert her family to the particulars of her situation. So either she knew something she wasn't letting on or she had some definite suspicions about it… either way... Cait felt that line of thinking was leading her to a place of anger and she didn't want to be angry, she certainly didn't want to be angry with one of the only people here who didn't stare at her like she didn't belong… but still… what was the Storybrooke sheriff's department doing about this?

Emma seemed caught off guard by the question, sputtering her words out a little. "Of course I looked, I mean… there wasn't anything to find… that… I mean we are… I am running an investigation but… Cait, you have to understand how this looks… there's nothing to investigate… the only thing here linked to your accident is… well, you." She held her hands out at Cait, placating "I'm not saying you did anything wrong but, people are starting to talk…"

"And stare…" Cait added. She felt her jaw clenching with frustration. "When Jefferson and I went into the diner this morning they just stared… didn't even try to pretend like they weren't doing it… " Cait shook her head, tilting her head back and blinking her eyes rapidly. The stress of her situation was catching back up with her. She hated it, her morning had been so pleasant… mostly. "Regardless…" She cleared her throat, leveling her gaze back with Emma's. "I have my follow up with Dr. Whale on Thursday and...once he clears me I'll get out of here so, you won't have to worry about your investigation anymore…"

Emma signed, leaning back in the chair. "Right… about that check up… I can drive you. It's at ten, right?" Cait nodded and after another moment of silence Emma stood up, sliding the chair back to where she'd found it. "I need to get going… Henry wanted to spend some time together this afternoon so…" Cait just nodded again and after a few seconds Emma did too before turning to the door. "I'll see you tomorrow afternoon…"

Cait thought she might say something more about her planned visit to Jefferson's but she simply opened the door and went out. "Fuck." Even the obscenity sounded tired coming out of her mouth. Cait hadn't meant to be so short with Emma but… in her brief interactions and trips outside the hospital or her room at the B&B it felt like she was being judged for, well, being here. She wanted to tell them all that this wasn't her fault or her choice… at least she didn't think it was. But more importantly she wanted to catch Emma before she was gone and apologize… after all, the woman had been very kind to her and was just trying to do her job.

Taking up her crutches and hobbling to the door, Cait opened it and slipped out into the hallway. At first she thought Emma had already gone but then, as she neared the turn in the hall toward the B&B's lobby, she heard her voice. Later, Cait wouldn't be quite sure what had made her stop, but she had. Emma was talking to Granny, Cait recognized her voice easily, and someone else. A man. She didn't recognize that one… it definitely wasn't Jefferson or Dr. Whale, though obviously there were far more men in Storybrooke than the couple that Cait was familiar with. She could only just make out their conversation, they were speaking in barely above a whisper, but what she heard was enough to send tendrils of fear curling through her.

"And she doesn't remember anything else?" Granny was asking.

"She says not, and I believe her…" Emma replied and Cait was at least bolstered by the knowledge that Emma was defending her, to some extent.

"But that doesn't mean anything… someone could have wiped her memory, or it really could be head trauma… I mean… there is no explanation for how she got here. How can that be?" The male voice was sounding nearly frantic, though it was hard to tell by the very nature of his gruff, deep tone.

"Shh… Calm down Leroy, we don't want her to hear…" Granny again, playing diplomat "I'm sure she's frightened as it is."

"Is she though? Couldn't she be playing us all? Or… ok, fine... what if someone is using her and she doesn't know it… I mean, could Regina have something to do with this? What about him?" The man said him in a way that made Cait think Granny and Emma knew just who he was talking about without having to say the mystery man's name. "And what's with her paling around with that crazy, hat-making hermit? Huh? Explain that... "

Cait heard Emma sigh and take a deep breath, she sounded as tired as Cait felt. She had a moment to contemplate the dig at Jefferson… hat making?... before Emma responded. "I don't know… he seems to be concerned about her… and she said he's been nice so… I mean he found her and he called the hospital… he hasn't done anything…" The male voice interrupted her abruptly.

"Are you defending him? After what he did to you? We should keep her here and I definitely don't think we should let her be around him… I mean, do we even know what happens when she tries to leave? Can she leave?" The man was angry, very angry.

"I don't know… I don't know ok. I'm sorry, I'm not exactly an expert on this… Until a few months ago I didn't even believe any of you existed so cut me a break. Alright?!" Emma was nearly shouting, well as much as you could shout in a whisper, though her words didn't make any sense at all to Cait. "I have to go… and we aren't going to treat her like a prisoner… she hasn't done anything wrong. So lay off… and leave it with Jefferson too. What happened between Jefferson and I is my business, not yours…" She finished, clearly signaling she was done with this conversation. What happened between Jefferson and Emma? Had they had a thing? Was that why Emma was so concerned about whatever was going on between the two of them… she didn't seem like the jealous type but...

"Fine but what about Mary Margaret? He…" The man stopped suddenly, and if Cait had to guess Emma had cut him a look that quelled any further questioning. This was so confusing, and as much as she wanted to figure out what Jefferson had to do with Emma and Mary Margaret, she was far more concerned with what they'd been saying about her.

Cait was trembling, she realized, and she suddenly felt very weak, standing, barely stable on her crutches in the hall. There wasn't anymore to hear except the front door opening and closing and Granny's footsteps heading back toward the diner. Cait waited a few more minutes just to be safe. When it was clear she moved as silently as she could back to her room and slipped inside, shutting and locking the door behind her. She barely made it to the bed before her legs fully gave out. Her whole body was shivering and she felt bile rise in her throat. They had been talking about holding her here… about her as if she were dangerous, as if she could be part of some plot… What was this? They had said she couldn't leave… or they didn't know if she could. How could that be? Did that mean someone wouldn't let her? She just wanted to forget she'd heard any of that… she wanted to talk to someone, to see one of her friends, to call her mom. Maybe that's what she should do… call her family, her friends… tell them the truth, tell them she was concerned she was in danger… But what if she was? If there was something going on here and she involved her family, would they be at risk too? She didn't think she could do that… Cait sat up against the head of the bed, trying to swallow the bile back down her throat and reason that she must have misheard something, that she hadn't heard what she thought… But she had, and she wasn't able to talk herself out of it or distract herself away from replaying the conversation over and over in her mind.

She didn't know how long she sat there, thinking, trembling, worrying… but it dawned on her some time later that she was hungry. She was out of protein bars and that was the only food she'd had available in her room. If she wanted something she was going to have to go out and get it… right now, she didn't think she could face stepping foot into that diner, or even out of her room. A glance at her phone told her it was just after 5. She looked at the time for a few minutes and then looked at the bottle of pain medicine next to her bed. She hadn't taken them since Friday but the draw of a dreamless, mind numbing sleep was difficult to ignore. She shook it away and reached for her tablet instead. She'd let herself have some time to be afraid, to be freaked out… and now, she was going to get to work. Maybe there was something going on here, and if there was, it wasn't likely that there'd be a wikipedia article on it, but things seemed to make their way onto the internet; traveling by word of mouth until someone wrote something down, through social media, via email… She was going to see what the internet had to share about the little town of Storybrooke, Maine. At least if she educated herself a little more on the town she might learn something useful, might be able to glean why everyone here was so concerned over a visitor, and if not, it gave her some time to think of exactly what she was going to do about all of this.

Hours later, when it was dark out and both the B&B and diner were silent, Cait was still scrolling through page after page on her tablet. She had found nothing on Storybrooke. Not the kind of nothing you usually found about a small town (location, population, no notable news), she found nothing. Not one mention of it. Not even a hint that the town existed. At first she hadn't believed it, she'd dug deeper, but now, the clock approaching 2:00AM, her eyes dry and bleary, she was going to have to accept it. There was nothing else to do. It scared her, it puzzled her, but this town was totally undocumented and while there were plenty of implications from that, her tired brain wasn't ready to face them. She wasn't ready to face anything, not even sleep, particularly with the prospect of her recent dreams and nightmares looming over her. She had come to one useful conclusion though… without any additional knowledge of the place available to her and knowing as little about her circumstances here as anyone else seemed to, she was going to play along. Just as she had been. She was going to write, and go to the diner, and have her appointment with Dr. Whale and tell everyone how she'd be heading out once she was medically cleared. She couldn't give any indication she'd overheard that conversation or had any inkling of the kind of talk she was stirring up. She was going to play dumb for all intents and purposes and hopefully, that would buy her some time.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Hey everyone. Sorry it's taken me a while to update. I've had an absolutely mad couple of weeks and been sick on top of it… to that point, this chapter went in a much different direction than I originally intended, and I don't know if it's because I'm just letting the story flow the way it wants to or if it's overly influenced by medication. It's hard to tell at this point. 😊 Either way, let me know what you think… I meant for this whole thing to be a much slower burn but, this seems to be the way the story wants to come out and right now, I'm apt to let it do its thing. Hope you all enjoy. Any feedback is welcome and wanted. Thanks! Oh! I'm also trying to play with how I swap between the characters and perspective a little bit, so if it gets weird, let me know. Hopefully I'll get to a place I like and find a rhythm, I feel like I'm headed that way, just not quite there yet...

* * *

Cait woke suddenly to the sound of her phone ringing. She reached for it on the nightstand, slapping it off the table top and onto the floor where it continued to wail and buzz. "Fuck!" She nearly slid out of the bed reaching down for the thing and when she had finally scooped it up and swiped to answer, she was out of breath. "Hello!?"

"Cait?" The voice on the other end of the phone sounded concerned. "Are you alright?" It was Jefferson. She'd forgotten all about him coming to pick her up. Her head was still swimming and groggy from sleep, trying to remember what time she had agreed to meet him. It couldn't be that late in the morning… could it?

"I'm yeah, sorry, just… knocked the phone onto the floor and… Sorry, I'm fine." She managed, pulling the phone from her face to look at the screen. The clock on the display told her it was just after 8:00 am. Right… he was dropping his daughter off at school and then coming by… damn.

"If this is a bad time…" His voice seemed hesitant and she felt an instant pang of guilt push through the exhaustion and haze. Scrubbing her hands over her face she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and tried to collect herself before speaking again.

"No, it isn't. I'm sorry, I overslept so I'm just a little behind being ready. I need to take a shower so, can you give me 10 minutes? I'll be really quick." Ten minutes was probably not quite enough but she felt bad making him wait.

"That's perfect, I have an errand to run first anyhow. I'll swing by in ten…" He didn't sound upset, so that was good, although the longer she was awake the more the previous evening was creeping back into her mind, and the prospect of spending time with Jefferson, which should have been exciting, was fading into an afterthought.

"Great. See you then…" She said it almost absently, clicking the phone off and tossing it on the bed behind her. She felt her stomach roll as she thought about what she'd overheard yesterday, and the nearly sleepless night she'd spent trying to figure everything out, only to figure almost nothing out at all. Sitting here wasn't going to help though, and since she'd resolved to go about her business as she had been, she needed to get up and get moving. Easier said than done on crutches, which she was nearly ready to toss out of a window… but hopefully she'd only be dealing with them for just another day or two.

When nearly 15 minutes had passed and Cait was towel drying her hair after showering and going through her morning routine at the speed of light, she heard a knock at the door. Taking a chance, before she'd gone into the bathroom, she'd unlocked it and taken her clothes with her, just in case. Opening the bathroom door a little she called out..."Jefferson? It's open!" After just a moment she heard the door open, slowly, footsteps sounding against the floor.

"It's me…" The now familiar voice responded. She heard the door shut behind him and then nothing. She was quickly braiding her damp hair back out of her face and hastily putting on moisturizer and deodorant before trying to shimmy her way into her clothing.

"OK. Sorry, I'm coming out now…" That wasn't entirely true, but she was close. Another few minutes later and she'd squeezed herself into a pair of skinny jeans and a thin grey sweater. She took half a second to glance in the mirror and wasn't thrilled about what she saw. She didn't think it would be polite to keep him waiting while she did her makeup, but she hated how dark the circles under her eyes were, and how generally tired she looked. Hopefully, he wouldn't judge her too harshly. Taking up her crutches she opened the bathroom door and stepped out. Jefferson was standing near the console table in the entryway, leaning against the wall, hands shoved in his pockets, trading his weight from one foot to the other. He was wearing dark jeans, boots, and a button down shirt in a blue so deep it was nearly black. He had draped his coat over the console table and was looking decidedly, well, nervous. She hoped her awkward demeanor on the phone hadn't given him the wrong idea, despite everything, she didn't want him to think she was regretting agreeing to see him.

"Hi… I'm so sorry… I …" She was trying to figure out how to apologize yet again but he waved a hand at her dismissively.

"No, no… it's fine. I should have called before I dropped off Grace… this is really early and… I needed to run by the post office anyway..." It seemed like the latter part of that might not have been true, hastily added as it was, but she certainly wasn't going to call him on it, she'd been the reason he needed somewhere else to go in the first place. "So… Tea and breakfast at my place is still fine?" He asked, a hint of hesitancy still in his voice.

Cait nodded, doing her best to seem interested and eager. She let out a deep breath, some of the adrenaline from her mad dash this morning was fading away and leaving the empty, frightening ache from the evening before uncovered and raw. This was going to be tough to get through but, at least, if there was anyone she was ok with seeing right now, anyone she felt like she could be around, it was Jefferson. "Just, let me grab my phone and purse… and coat…" She flashed him something of a genuine smile and saw that he returned it as she scooped up the items and sat down on the sofa with them, taking a moment to try and get herself and her things organized.

"How was the rest of your day yesterday?' He was watching her as she stuffed her phone into her purse and set it on the end table while she made sure the wrap on her ankle was tight. "More interesting than mine… I'm sure" He mused, stretching his legs some as he leaned further back against the wall again. "I had the pleasure of helping with homework so… " Jefferson chuckled a little but it died on his lips as his eyes met Cait's. She hadn't really been expecting that. It was an innocuous question, or it should have been, but considering the night she'd had, the impact was greater than he could have known. She looked up at him and felt all the frustration, exhaustion, confusion, and fear bubbling below the surface, surge forward, sucking away her energy and resolve and plastering itself clearly on her face.

"What?" He asked, voice deepening with concern. She held his gaze as she struggled with whether or not to tell him. One the one hand, he might think she was losing it or had misunderstood and… she supposed, there was even the chance that maybe he was a part of, whatever it was that was going on here...though she was not going to allow herself to go too far down that path. But, then again, she was also dying to tell someone, to talk about it, say it out loud... and he seemed to genuinely care. Regardless, staring into those clear, blue eyes, she knew she wasn't going to be able to lie to him, so she just came out with it.

"My day was fine, I guess… until the afternoon. Emma came over and she was… I don't know, she was really concerned about what I remember… or what I don't, I guess… about the accident… She seemed almost… not angry but…She wasn't really happy that I was seeing you again either…" Cait shrugged and looked away from him, toward the window next to the bed, unable to meet his eyes as she said it. She was going to tell him but she was also going to control herself, she needed to control herself. She knew she'd been teetering on the edge of a break down, even after yesterday, she'd only allowed herself a few moments to be truly upset… it was something she'd been doing since the accident and it was all starting to build up inside her. She knew that, she knew bottling it up was bad, but she was also terrified at what opening up about this might mean.

"Anyway… " Cait continued "when she went to leave I was short with her and I was going after her to see if I could catch her before she was completely gone… and apologize." She looked down at her lap, brow knitting together and took a deep breath. "I heard her talking in the lobby, to Granny and…I was in the hall, I didn't mean to eavesdrop but… there was some man I didn't know, I didn't recognize his voice… they called him something… um…" She searched her brain, now in overdrive, replaying the scene "... Leroy… I think." She hazarded a look at Jefferson who had stood up quite straight and was staring at her intently, something dark moving behind his eyes, his face set with a swirl of emotion she couldn't decipher. That nearly did her in, her voice faltering as she swallowed, looked back out the window and proceeded, telling him what she'd heard, every detail she could remember; explaining the tone of Emma's voice as she seemed to defend Cait, and how angry the man had sounded, how mistrustful he was of her. By the time she'd finished tears were trickling down her cheeks and she was glad she hadn't taken the time to put on any makeup, it'd be ruined now anyhow. Cait was starting to feel overwhelmed but now that she'd started talking, it was hard to stop...she felt bad, but she couldn't leave any of it out, not even what they'd had to say about him… And it wasn't just the conversation from yesterday… that had been the story she was trying to tell but she kept going, letting all her confusion and fear out, repeating the conversation with Emma the day she'd told her maybe not to tell her family just what had happened… pointing out all the strange looks she'd noticed and how she'd thought maybe she was just imagining things but now, now she knew something was going on… The worst part was that she had no idea what it was though, and so she was left even more confused, full of broken and vague memories, fear, and a deep sense of loneliness that was beginning to take a serious toll on her. In retrospect, Cait had probably never been quite so honest, so intentionally vulnerable in front of anyone… well maybe it wasn't intentional, she'd set out just to repeat the incident from yesterday and now… now she had rambled her way through everything that had happened and that she'd felt the past couple of weeks, tears still streaking down her face… a tenuous hold on her self-control the only thing keeping her from truly crumbling.

When Cait finally turned to look across at Jefferson again, after a few steady moments of silence, he was moving toward her. He looked angry, and on the verge of tears himself and she didn't know if it was sympathy for her or because she'd just made him listen to all the cryptic and unpleasant things people he knew had to say about him. She didn't have much time to dwell on it. He crossed the room swiftly and leaned down and in an easy, quick motion scooped her up from the sofa and into his arms. She pressed her face into the crook of his neck and threw her arms around his shoulders, one of his own sliding beneath her legs and lifting them so that he could carry her. She tried to say something, I'm sorry maybe, she wasn't even sure, but the sound that came out was nothing like words, it was a choked sob and all it took for her to crack completely.

* * *

Jefferson crushed Cait to his chest, carrying her over to the bed. He sat down, his back against the headboard and deftly kicked off his boots, swinging his long legs up onto the mattress and settling her against him, his face pressed into her hair. "Shhh… Cait… It's ok. I know." And he did. He knew exactly what this kind of loneliness was like, he also knew what it was like to feel like (and have confirmed) that people were whispering about you, conspiring against you, behind your back. It absolutely broke his heart to see it happening to Cait. Even more so because he felt helpless, like there was nothing he could do for her, but be there.

"I've got you..." He kept speaking softly to her, pressing her against him as she cried, her face tucked beneath his chin, dampening the collar of his shirt. Her hands gripped his shoulders, clutching him as tightly as he was her. He held one arm across her shoulder, hand gently cradling the back of her neck and head, fingers tangled in the loose hair there. The other wrapped around her waist, his thumb tracing gentle, feather-light circles against the small of her back. He blinked his eyes furiously, looking up and away from her, for a moment… He could not remember being so angry in… well, since he'd had Grace back. Even the prospect of not getting home hadn't been enough to make him more than moderately worried or annoyed… truthfully, he'd had little to be too upset about with his little girl back by his side, but this… What were they thinking? Standing in earshot of her room talking about her like that… He didn't know if he was more upset at what they'd said or that they'd been careless enough to let her hear.

Jefferson understood, to some degree, the caution and curiosity… even perhaps a certain level of suspicion and fear... knowing what they all knew about Storybrooke, it was natural… but he could not forgive them being so stupid or cruel enough to let her overhear it, not when it made her feel the way she was obviously feeling. He knew that to her, without the whole story, the implications of their conversation must have seemed nefarious and terrifying. The idea of her overhearing it… she must have felt so alone and fearful. It felt like someone had knifed him in the heart, the kind of pain that radiated through his whole body, knotting his stomach and making bile rise in his throat. It also made him feel decidedly more violent than he had in a long while. He felt the desire to hurt someone rise in his chest, and that shook him, deeply. He had sworn that reckless, reactionary side of him off many times, and he'd meant the last time to be the last. After the incident with Emma and Mary Margaret, he couldn't be that person anymore, not when he had Grace… he had to be better for her. But this damaged his resolve, he could feel his muscles trembling with the need to make anyone and everyone who'd hurt her, feel the same pain or worse. And while he thought they all deserved a talking to, if not a good throttling, these were just words and he hoped he could get her past them… At any rate he couldn't dwell on those feelings, right now he needed to care for the woman clinging to his chest, and if he gave in to these particular frustrations he wasn't going to be able to do that.

He forced his mind to think of something else, and it occurred to him that all of his back and forth about her, the strange, almost magnetic pull she'd seem to have over him since that first night… his resolution to ignore her, to befriend her, to prove her ordinary and nothing of any importance to him had gone. He couldn't imagine that anything would have kept him from comforting her right now, from holding her. In a way, it was like he had no choice… it was an imperative, he needed to, he had to. It spread a curious feeling through him, and right or wrong, he wasn't willing to fight it, not right now. There would be plenty of time for him to over analyze and guilt himself later, for now, at least in his mind, Cait needed him.

He wasn't sure exactly how long they sat that way; Cait curled against him and resting in his lap, but eventually he couldn't hear her crying anymore, and her breathing evened out. He wondered if maybe, she'd fallen asleep, but a moment later she sat up a little, hair falling out of her braid and into her face, across her damp, red eyes. He brushed it away, his thumb smoothing across her cheek, taking a few stray tears with it. She glanced around them, realizing they'd moved and seeming to remember herself and fully take in her position. She didn't exactly pull away but she put a bit more distance between them and tried to wipe her face.

"I'm sorry… I shouldn't have… um... " He knew how hard this must be and if she really wanted to get up, he would have let her. She didn't move anymore though, just looked at him, lost, with those big, green eyes and fumbled with her words; trying to clear her face of tears, shoulders drooping in embarrassment.

"You don't have anything to be sorry for… Come here…" He gripped her shoulders gently, easing her back down to rest against him, and she let him, choking back another, gentler sob. Her face was pressed tightly to his neck, his chin resting against her forehead… she was still and quiet after a moment, one of her hands clutching at the lapel of his shirt, the buttons having come undone while he held her. She stayed that way for another little while, quiet, holding on to him tightly and even though he knew they needed to talk this through, he was hesitant to disturb her. He didn't have to worry about it, Cait shifted against him and cleared her throat before speaking.

"Jefferson?" Her voice was raw from crying, scratchy, and tiny; it made her seem fragile and afraid. "What am I going to do?" She was looking up at him, tilting her head back so she could see his face, a pleading look on hers. He didn't know her all that well, truth be told, but he hadn't gotten the idea she was helpless or incapable and that made this all more terrible to see.

"I don't know… Look… sit up." He pulled her away from his chest, carefully, so that she was sitting on the bed, between his legs. He still had one hand resting against the small of her back, his fingers absently toying with the hem of her sweater; her own hand still grasping at his shirt, pulling it away from him as she moved. "I don't want to alarm you or make you more upset, but… Storybrooke… it's not everything it seems…" This was going to be a difficult conversation to have, he was about to have to reveal that he'd been holding back information, that he knew exactly why those people had been talking about her outside her room. He didn't doubt it would hurt her and it hurt him as much to know that, but he had to tell her, had to see if there was some way to figure out how to help. He was building up to say it, breathing deeply and willing her to understand, not to mistrust him. She was looking at him expectantly, he made himself match her gaze, and just when he'd opened his mouth to continue, she looked down and her face blanched.

"Oh my god... " Cait leaned forward, hands pushing open the collar of his shirt wide, laying his neck and part of his chest bare. "Jefferson…" His name came out of her mouth full of questioning and surprise, cracking as if she might cry again. He froze, he should have known, the way she was holding his collar... For a moment they just looked at each other and then she reached her fingers toward him, brushing them against the raised scar. "Someone… did this to you?" She asked as if she was afraid of the answer and he wondered if she thought he might have done it to himself.

"Yes…" He swallowed, he found it difficult to speak, the tables turning on him quickly. This wasn't a topic he liked to think about on a good day, it certainly wasn't one he spoke to anyone about… and more than that… no one, not one soul, save himself, had ever touched that scar. Cait was though, touching it... and she wasn't afraid of it, or repulsed by it, it seemed only to make her sad. He had to close his eyes, to block out the look on her face; he was the one fighting tears now.

"That's why you wear the scarves… " It was a statement, her fingertips were still touching his neck, tracing the line of the scar as it circled around to the front of his throat. They stayed there for a moment before sliding down to rest against his skin, her palm pressed gently against his chest inside the shirt, over his heart. No doubt she could feel it hammering against her hand, Jefferson himself thought it might well beat right out of his body.

He nodded at her, rather than speaking, and brought his free hand up to cover hers, pressing it harder against him, his fingers curling over hers, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "This… it was a long time ago… I barely even remember." He was finding his voice, slowly. It was obvious to him that Cait knew what he'd said was not the truth, but she had the good grace to let it go, nodding and leaning in to slide her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. He brought his arms up around her back, giving her a squeeze and holding them there, letting her decide when to sit up. She pulled away slowly, her facing coming up so that her nose brushed lightly against his jaw just beneath his ear. He could feel her breath on his skin as she sat back, her mouth only a few inches from his own. It sent a shiver through him, one that started moving swiftly down his spine and settled low in his stomach. It felt like they were frozen that way, barely far enough apart to meet each other's eyes. She let her arms drop from his shoulders, one smoothing down to grip his bicep, the other sliding inside the collar of his shirt again to rest against his chest, her palm pressed back over his heart. Jefferson felt a distinct tightening in his groin and he knew he needed to separate himself or this was going to complicate things but, he couldn't seem to. He wanted to push back, scoot himself away, but his hand came up instead to her face… still puffy and pink from crying. Her mouth was trembling, almost imperceptibly; he could feel that as he ran his thumb over her bottom lip, tugging it slightly down and to the side as his hand moved, sliding down her jaw to her neck. He wasn't sure if he leaned in first, or if she did, or if they had together… but his lips crashed against hers. Nothing about the kiss was chaste or timid. It was open mouthed, intense, and all too brief. It seemed like the moment they connected this jolt of… electricity, shot through him. It wasn't the goofy, romantic comedy lightening bolt, it was an almost frightening sensation… It burned his skin, and if the moment itself hadn't been so pleasurable it would have hurt, a little. And more than that there was this sound, like nothing he'd ever heard though he was sure it had happened inside his head… almost like the noise produced when a jet broke the sound barrier. His eyes flew open and he saw hers widen, both of them drawing away, their breathing harried.

"Did…" She couldn't even finish the sentence. He nodded at her.

"Yes…" He didn't know what to do or what that was. He saw her looking around as if there must have been some external explanation. They were both quiet, half expecting to hear something that would indicate what had happened. There was nothing, and while Cait was still looking around, eyes fixed outside the window, he turned back to her. He wanted badly to kiss her again but he was afraid. Not of whatever *that* had been but… that maybe it had scared her off, that maybe she hadn't really meant to kiss him to start with. When she settled her eyes on him again though, those thoughts disappeared. Whatever was going through her mind, it wasn't enough to pull her away, if anything she drew herself closer to him and almost as if on instinct he leaned back in, his mouth pressing against hers. This time there was no sound but he felt the stinging, though it was less intense than before. He didn't fight it or jerk away, he let it spread through his body and after the briefest of moments it settled into something more like a buzzing, a tingling, like all of his nerve endings were waking up at once. Cait seemed untroubled if she felt it and opened her mouth readily to him. He pressed his tongue against hers, tasting her, intent on mapping her mouth with it, knowing it like he knew his own. Her hand was still inside his shirt, moving over his chest, burning him wherever it touched his skin, the other gripping his arm tightly. In the back of his mind he knew they were supposed to be doing something else, there had been something important, something she was upset about, something he needed to say, but he couldn't, for the life of him concentrate hard enough on it to remember. There was nothing but her, the taste of her lips, the feel of her hands on him, the way her cool, smooth skin felt as he slipped his hands beneath her sweater and let them roam up her back and around her sides. He thought he would need to pull away for a breath or risk running out, but as he began to, nipping at her bottom lip she let out this sound… airy and unintentional, that made him dive back in with renewed vigor. He brought a hand up then to grip the back of her head, holding her against him as he devoured her mouth; Cait giving as good as she got from him. His free hand moved inside her sweater, fingers tracing up and down her spine in time to the rhythm of the kiss.

 _BUZZ. BUZZ. BUZZ._ They paused, neither of them pulling away, their lips still pressed together. _BUZZ. BUZZ. BUZZ._ Her phone, it was vibrating in her purse on the end table. He could feel her chest rising and falling against him, her eyes blinking open as they slowly separated, turning toward the offending sound.

"Your phone…" His voice came out low, gravely. He could see in her eyes that she too was considering whether or not to bother with it and though he wanted nothing more than kiss her again, he untangled himself from her and stood up, crossing over to the table and fishing it out of her purse. It was still ringing when he sat back on the bed and handed it to her. It was Emma.

* * *

Cait glanced at Jefferson, he nodded. She answered, doing her best to mask how out of breath she was. "Emma!"

This woman had terrible timing. Of all the moments to call… Cait's head was swirling and she felt like Emma could see her, somehow, through the phone.

"Hey, is this a bad time? Are you ok?" Cait sucked in a deep breath, looking wide-eyed at Jefferson. That was a mistake. His eyes were half lidded, lips red and pouty from their kisses. She had to stifle the groan that welled up in her throat and look away.

"Yes. Yes! I'm fine. Sorry, just, had to scramble for the phone… What's up?" It should have been more difficult to pretend that things were alright as she spoke to Emma, but the moment with Jefferson had been a sufficient distraction from her thoughts about the night before.

"Are you with Jefferson?" Cait swallowed hard. She almost lied but then thought better of it.

"Yeah… I am." She didn't say more, didn't offer any further information or explanation. Emma didn't press it.

"Alright… Listen, I just talked to Dr. Whale and he said, based on my reports about how you're doing, maybe he could see you this afternoon instead of waiting until Thursday… around 3:30. Would that be alright" Cait didn't really think about whether it would or not, though getting rid of her brace, and wrap, and crutches sooner rather than later was nothing but goods as far as she could see.

"That sounds great. The sooner the better." She saw Jefferson turn to look at her and felt her heart give an extra beat. His eyes were looking less sultry and more… she wasn't sure. She wished she'd not said that, hoping he didn't think she meant she was eager to get away from him, but she would explain, as soon as Emma hung up.

"Alright, I'll be by around 3:00… see you then." Cait agreed and hung up the phone.

"I hope you don't think… I meant you…" She started, turning to Jefferson. "With that sooner the better thing." She said it as if she were teasing, joking but, she underneath she was serious. He was easing himself up off the bed, arms folding across his chest. "Jefferson?" Oh no… was he about to tell her that kiss was a mistake? She felt a little sick. She was so stupid. She had said she wasn't going to do this. He was nice, he was friendly, he saved her, and the moment any intimacy was created between them, whether it was *that* kind of intimacy or not, she'd caved and now… now he was going to say sorry. He was going to say that he shouldn't have, that it was wrong. She wasn't sure she could handle it. "Please…" She began, voice wavering "Don't tell me you regret that… because if you're going to do that then just… just go because I can't…" She could hear herself getting worked up, hear the emotion from earlier seeping back into her tone.

"What? No!" His eyes widened and he spun to face her, marching back to the bed and squatting down in front of it, taking her by the shoulders. "No Cait… I don't regret it… I just… we need to actually talk. I got caught up in the moment but… I need to tell you something… about what you heard yesterday…" He stood back up and sat on the edge of the bed, putting distance between them, Cait thought it was a good idea. She wasn't sure if any talking would get done if she was too close to him… The sensation of his mouth and hands, the current that had lit up her body at his touch lingered… So she scooted toward the center of the bed and nodded, hoping that would do the trick.

"Right…" The wheels were turning in her head again "You were going to tell me something... About Storybrooke…" She saw his jaw set and he nodded, letting out a strained sigh.

"I am but… please… try to understand… I…" He shook his head. "I don't want you to think differently of me…" She couldn't imagine why would say that but she nodded again and he continued. "There are things going on here that… this isn't like other towns." He gritted his teeth and looked her at hard. "Storybrooke doesn't exactly… exist… not outside of here… anyhow." He paused, watching her for any kind of reaction. Exist… what a strange turn of phrase… She almost said something and then she remembered all the hours she'd spent combing the internet the night before… not one mention, not one trace of Storybrooke had been anywhere. No news articles, no visitors advertisements, hell, not even on reddit.

"Okay…" She was with him so far, sort of, and he kept going.

"The people in this town… myself included, we… we aren't from here. We were all brought here… by someone, from another place… a very, different place." He sounded like he was having difficulty getting this out and, she could see why, this was starting to head down a curious path. "Not just another place… another world…" She felt her mouth open slightly and he hastily corrected himself. "Not another planet or... " She could see something going on in his head, he was thinking, pausing to collect himself and then leaning in just a little. "You're familiar with the idea of the multiverse?"

"Yeah… Newton first mentioned it… or was the first on record. Parallel Universes that together make up everything that exists… they brush up against each other but, don't overlap." She nodded at him, looking completely stumped as to why he'd be talking to her about this.

"Right… exactly. Our universe is a parallel to yours… it's next door, like a neighbor. Some people, where I am from know how to cross over... The multiverse theory is a pretty accurate way of describing it… your science does a great job with that it's your version of… " He cleared his throat, and swallowed, still leaning forward a little, almost as if he wanted to reach for her, but he didn't. "You have science… like that theory, space travel… medicine and all of these ingenious technologies and industries." She was still nodding occasionally but her eyes had widened and she could feel herself growing distant, almost as if she were watching this unfold from outside herself. "We don't have those things… We have … had…" He took a deep breath "Magic."

"Magic?" His words snapped her back into focus. "Like… Harry Potter spells and wand waving or … I mean… what does that even mean?" She could hear the confusion in her own voice and knew her tone came out a little harsh but, he didn't react, he just nodded.

"I guess, sort of. People use it differently, it is something of a skill, to be learned, to be mastered and… perhaps most importantly, always with a price to be paid. It… it doesn't matter how big or small the act of magic, there will always be a commensurate price extracted from the person who is using it…" He licked his lips, he seemed to be trying to frame this all in the least outlandish way possible but… really, this was crazy. It occurred to her that he might be crazy… no, flat out insane. Oh god. She had just made out with a guy who might be certifiable… truthfully, she'd rather be making out with him right now, rather than hearing this. Or was that even making out? Calling what they'd been doing before the phone rang a make out sounded, in her own mind, like a gross understatement. Jefferson had started talking again and she realized she had to focus, no matter how much her brain was trying to distract her from his words, no matter how much she wanted it to. "There's a lot of bleed from our world to yours… some things you'll be familiar with, stories and items brought here that have made their way into … ah… pop culture… fairy tales…"

"Fairy tales? Like what? Cinderella… Snow White? Disney? Or the… what are they called? The brothers… Grimm?" He nodded and watched her, he looked, scared? Like he was ready to run at a moment's notice.

"Yes… More Grimm's than Disney but yes… Snow White is… not a story, where I am from. It is a person that your stories are based on. And, in fact… part of the reason we are here... " That was the straw. She looked at him, dumbfounded, searching his face for any sign that he might be joking, that maybe she had misheard him.

"Wait? Snow White… as in, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, the story about a girl and a poisoned apple… that Snow White brought you here from a parallel universe to live with a bunch of other people from that parallel universe in a pretend town in Maine that doesn't actually exist…" He made a face that said he knew just how ridiculous this sounded but he shrugged a little and nodded, apologetically.

"Not exactly… you're obviously somewhat familiar with the story, though I daresay the truth isn't what you know… Just… hear me out. Ok?" He scooted forward, suddenly, taking her hand in his and holding up against his chest, his eyes pleading with her. She wanted to tell him just how nuts this sounded, but the look he gave her… She couldn't do it. She squeezed his hand and nodded as he continued. "You can call me crazy and do whatever you need to do, but hear me out… Please?"

"Ok… ok, I'll listen. I promise." And she did. Hours later Cait was sitting next to Jefferson, her back against the headboard, his arm draped over her shoulder, her head resting against him, trying her best to process everything he'd said. Jefferson had told her the truth of Snow White's story... told her about Regina, who had once been a young girl in love herself, but who now was the evil queen of legend. He told her how Regina had vowed revenge on Snow and everyone who'd ever helped or cared for her, intending to punish them by sending them here, without their memories and separated from their loved ones...How Snow and Charming had sacrificed their child in the hope that they might all one day be saved, and how that child had turned out to be Emma Swan. He had even told her how he'd lost Grace… that he'd once been wild and careless, using borrowed magic to move between worlds collecting relics for those who could afford to pay, and how his desire for material things… the idea that they were more important for Grace than her Father was, had not only lost him his daughter but earned him the scar on his neck and landed him in Storybrooke with all those things he'd ever wanted and without the only one that actually mattered, the person he actually cared for. He'd rounded it all out with the curse, Emma breaking it, and how magic had returned and even though everyone now knew who they were, they were still trapped, unable to get to their home and unable to leave Storybrooke without serious repercussions. Some of it, weirdly, made a lot of sense in light of what Cait had heard and the response her arrival had caused... And, no matter how crazy most of it sounded, when he'd begun to talk about himself, about Grace, she'd felt for him. The way his voice trembled and his eyes saddened, the guilt clearly written on his features. She had no doubt he'd edited a few things, she could see it in the way he spoke, and she was sure that it was because some of it was too painful to tell. It told her a lot about him though… He'd made some mistakes, some bad ones, but he was trying to make up for them. Cait also knew now, without a shadow of a doubt, that he loved Grace more than anything and that he was, despite what the others had alluded to, and some things he might have done, a good man.

It was a good thing she'd come to that conclusion. After what she'd done this morning… she didn't want to have to consider the idea that she'd been eagerly seduced by someone as unstable as Jefferson had sounded telling his tale. Even now she wasn't sure if either of them were in their right minds... She was cuddled up next to a man she'd only recently met, that she'd allowed to hold her and kiss in a way no one had in a long time; as a matter of fact, Cait was more than certain no one had ever kissed her that way… And he had just told her he was from a parallel universe where magic existed, and that an evil queen had brought him here and that people were afraid of Cait because she'd been brought here too, in a mysterious way that seemed to point to magic's involvement, and that there was the chance she couldn't leave because her memory would be erased if she did. Truth be told, she should have run screaming from the room; called for help, called her family, had someone come and get her the hell out of here. But she hadn't… there was something about Jefferson that was so… well she didn't know what exactly but she did know that she could trust him, the same way she knew her own name. The pull she felt from him was complete and irrevocable… Allowing that to sink, at last, made her breath catch in her throat. The idea that someone could connect with her so deeply, against her will in some ways, was strange and threatened a lot of what Cait believed about herself and people in general. But, it also gave her something… hope, and a little bit of reassurance. He said he was on her side, would help her, and she believed him.

"Cait…" Jefferson's voice was rough, and it was clear that telling her all of that had cost him too. He'd said so, in not so many words, as he'd wrapped up his story, admitting again he was afraid she wouldn't trust him… would think he'd been lying to her. Maybe it was the absurdity of it all, maybe it was the lingering effects of her concussion, or that kiss, or her general exhaustion, but… she took him at his word, believed he'd been silent about their circumstances because, honestly, who would believe it, and why would they tell anyone who didn't need to know. "Cait…" Jefferson's hand gripped her thigh gently, shaking her just a little.

"Sorry… I was thinking…" She admitted, her own voice sounding strained and tired.

"Ok… That's ok. I just wanted to make sure you… Are you alright?" He was looking at her intently, trying to read her face.

"I am… just… tired, I guess." She shrugged, truly exhausted, burrowing herself more deeply into his side, relishing the warmth and comfort of being next to someone. "I guess I need to eat at some point…" She remembered, for whatever reason, that she hadn't eaten, excepting a milkshake she'd had before Emma arrived in the afternoon, properly, since breakfast yesterday.

"Right… you didn't eat any breakfast" He wrapped his free arm around her and drew her up a little where he could see her better.

"Yeah… didn't eat anything last night either… had a milkshake from the diner around two but… that was the last time." She blinked her eyes closed, nestling her head back down against his collar, but it only lasted a second. He pulled her up into a sitting position, a frown on his face.

"You haven't eaten a meal since yesterday morning?" She wondered if this was how he sounded when he was reading the riot act to Grace "You can't do that… you are trying to heal from some pretty serious injuries...and I'm sure this pain medication isn't meant to be taken on an empty stomach."

"I'm better and… I haven't really been taking it… the medicine" She shrugged "I don't like the way it makes me feel so… I only took it the first few days… only when I have to." She let her shoulders sag, his hands at her waist holding her up. She wanted to be a little defiant but, he was right. She needed to eat. She wasn't sleeping great and losing energy from that was enough, not eating was just a stupid decision on top of it. Talking about her injuries and the meds brought the call from Emma to the forefront of her mind. "Oh!" She had totally forgotten. "What time is it?"

"About…" He glanced down at his watch "2:00… Why?"

"Emma… when she called earlier. Dr. Whale wanted to bump up my follow up to today… at 3:30, she's coming by in an hour to get me… I just, I had forgotten." He nodded, sympathetically and chewed on his bottom lip for a moment.

"Alright… Let's get some lunch then… I" He hestited, and she wasn't quite sure if he was staring at her or through her. "I have to go and pick up Grace from school soon anyway… I'm sorry."

"What for?" She really wasn't sure. He had nothing to apologize for.

"I just… I hate… what we just talked about… this morning. I don't like the idea of just… going."

"You have to take care of your daughter…" Cait didn't particularly want him to go either but, it wasn't an option for him to stay.

He sighed and slid out from beside her. "Ok… Let's worry about one thing at a time. Lunch. I'll go grab something from Granny's unless you want to go…"

She shook her head. "No… I'm not really ready go sit out among the crowd…" Cait sighed "I'm not sure I want to see Emma or Dr. Whale but…" She eyed the crutches leaning against the sofa.

"I know… I know. I'll just go grab something. What do you want?" He was putting his shoes back on.

"Um… Just maybe… I don't know… a burger? Fries. Another milkshake? Do they sell pints of ice cream?" She smiled a little at him and he chuckled, nodding.

"Alright..."Burger it is…" He gave her a smile and paused, stepping over to the bed and leaning down. He seemed to be fighting with himself about what to do and then, after a moment, decided to go for it. He leaned in and planted a quick, closed-mouthed kiss against her lips. "I'll be right back…" He headed for the door, looking adorably sheepish, but pleased with himself none-the-less.

Cait had to stop herself from giggling, stupid as that was. After what she'd just found out she shouldn't be feeling giddy, she wasn't sure how she should be feeling really, but she couldn't help it anyway. Cait flopped back on the bed, arms spread wide on either side of her. She really wanted to think through everything he'd told her but her brain was not really in a state to comply. She wasn't quite sure it would do her any good… in a way, blindly accepting it seemed an easier path than trying to rationalize any of it would be. And that sparked a thought, one that made her more than a little curious, prompting her to sit up. Jefferson had told her, as he went along, explaining, who each person was… Mary Margaret was Snow White… Cait supposed she could see that… Leroy was Grumpy… that definitely made sense… Ruby was Red Riding Hood and Granny, well, was Granny. But, he had neglected to say who he was… everyone seemed to have an attachment to some fairy tale figure, notable ones, at that. But who was Jefferson? His story didn't seem to line up with any of the myths she could think of off hand and she realized, he'd most certainly left a few details out when he'd told her… like what it was that he'd used to move between the worlds… he said an object with magic… but what kind? And where was he when he'd been captured and he'd gotten the scar? How, exactly had he gotten the scar… He'd just said it was punishment, for trespassing… That definitely gave her pause. Why wouldn't he want her to know who he was? Maybe he wasn't anyone she would know… or maybe he was ashamed? It was a little bit frustrating… not that he was lying, but that he might be still keeping something from her because he feared her reaction. She'd just taken on quite a bit and had reacted, she thought, pretty well, maybe even too well, considering. So why the missing details? She first thought she would ask when he got back, but the more she mulled over it the more she realized they didn't really have time and that she needed to give her brain a break. Besides, she didn't want him to have to speak about anything painful if he wasn't ready but… when it came to it, when they did talk about it, she thought she deserved at least a base level of the truth and he seemed to be editing that, where he was concerned, quite heavily.

When the door opened just a little while later, Jefferson squeezing in, his arms laden with food containers and drinks, a goofy little half smile on his lips, any thoughts of haranguing him about the missing pieces in his story were long gone. There'd be plenty of time for that, she'd decided. Right now, she was trying to get up to help him but he was shaking his head at her, carefully sitting the drinks down on the desk in the corner before setting the food down as well.

"Sorry, took longer than I thought…" He walked over to the bed, reaching his arms out to her, pulling her up to stand. Cait held on to him and let him help her over to the desk, getting situated while be pulled up the stool from the vanity and sat next to her.

"Don't apologize… thank you. How much…" He cut her off, sliding one of the containers of food over to her, followed by a to-go cup of water, and what was obviously a milkshake.

"Don't worry about it… Milkshake, burger, fries… as promised. They were short on pints of ice cream though…" He grinned, opening his own container and pushing a french fry into his mouth.

She smiled at him and leaned over, brushing her lips against his cheek, before opening her own food up and digging in. There wasn't a lot of time left before Emma was supposed to arrive and school let out. Though Jefferson seemed to think it was ok if he left when she did, as the school was just down the street. She hoped that was true, she didn't want to cause any kind of disruption between him and Grace, not that she necessarily thought he would allow that but, the girl had seemed so sweet, and Jefferson obviously loved her with all his trusted him to know though, and so when they'd finished eating, fairly quickly, he helped her back to the crutches so that she could go freshen up while he cleaned away their lunch.

It was Jefferson who answered the door when Emma knocked a few minutes later, and Cait was a little bit glad she was still brushing her teeth when the woman came in. She heard them, through the bathroom door, saying hello. As she turned off the water and set aside her toothbrush the sound of their voices continued, and she paused to listen.

"I thought Cait was going to your place today?" Emma sounded casual, Cait was relieved to hear.

"We didn't really make it that far… just… started talking here and never left." He answered, matching her tone. Cait glanced in the mirror, her face looked a little less red, though still quite tired, but at least she'd been able to straighten out her clothing and brush her hair. She'd tied it back in a new braid and had managed to make herself decently presentable before stepping out of the bathroom, the noise of the opening door and crutches making both Emma and Jefferson turn toward her. She took a steadying breath and reminded herself that she was going to act natural, that had been her resolution last night, and despite what today had brought, the had not changed.

"I swear, if Dr. Whale wants me to leave the hospital with these this afternoon, I'm going to hit him with one…" She fixed them both with a serious look, though it was undermined by a glint of humor. Emma nodded, laughing a little under her breath, a wide smile breaking out on Jefferson's face.

"Try not to do it while I'm in the room, I don't want to have to arrest you for assault." She smiled at Emma's quip and made her way out to them, finding it easier than she expected to converse with the woman, after everything that had happened since yesterday. Jefferson handed her purse and phone to her and their eyes met before Cait cast a wary glance at the sheriff.

"Thank you… for everything, today." She saw he already had his coat on, and that he'd buttoned the collar of his shirt back up all the way, effectively concealing the scar on his neck. She couldn't resist the urge to reach up and straighten the collar, even though it didn't need it, tucking one of the crutches awkwardly under her arm to do it.

"You don't need to thank me…" He was suddenly really close to her, his hands sliding up to her shoulders, rubbing them gently. It was very difficult to remember that Emma was still in the room and that they should probably be, not like this but… "Call me… let me know how the check-up goes." His voice was low and she nodded up at him, her stomach doing a little flip as he closed the distance between them and pressed a kiss to her lips. It was relatively quick but neither of them missed the little intake of breath from Emma, reminding them both that she had been watching.

"Um… Ok. I will" Cait felt her face reddening, chewing on her bottom lip some as she pointedly looked at the ground, slinging her purse around her shoulders and letting Jefferson walk her to the door. Emma followed and a moment later they were outside, Jefferson heading to his car, and Emma helping Cait into hers.

"So, we gonna talk about that or?" Emma had barely closed the door before the words were out of her mouth. Cait thought about saying ' talk about what' but she didn't think that would fly.

"Do you really want to? I don't even know what there is to talk about, honestly." That wasn't true. There was plenty to talk about. Cait found, as the time ticked by, she was reeling more from that first kiss she shared with Jefferson than from his revelations about Storybrooke. Which, she knew, shouldn't be right. She chalked it up to emotional exhaustion and her brain trying to protect her from the absurd nature of the information, but still… That feeling… the sound. She hadn't asked him specifically, but he'd said yes… yes to whatever she was going to ask. Did that mean he'd felt it too? The stinging, electric current running through her when their lips had made contact…

"Is this a thing or? I mean, I'm just trying to understand. This is what, the fourth time you've even seen him, not counting the night he found you… that's a little… fast." Emma had pulled out onto the road and was headed toward the hospital, a few blocks away.

"I know… and I don't know if it's a thing or…" That was a lie too. It was definitely a thing. It was more than a thing really but Cait wasn't quite ready to acknowledge that. Even if she'd wanted to, she wasn't ready to explain to Emma how any of that had even started. She knew she was going to have to confront her, talk to her about what she'd overheard, and she guessed, about what Jefferson had told her but… right now she just wanted to get to her appointment, get cleared of some of these injuries, and have at least a moment's respite from the craziness of the day.

"Alright... " Emma was parking them in front of the hospital, giving Cait a final glance before dropping the topic, and helping her from the car.

The appointment went better than Cait could have expected. Her wrist was better than well and her ankle too. She was able to ditch the crutches and the wrap if she agreed to wear a thin, flexible brace on it any time she was planning to be up and on it a lot. Dr. Whale took another look at her ribs and they discussed the concussion and decided she was essentially in the clear. It was enough to keep her mind off of the rest of the day as well and so Cait got what she wanted. It was a pleasant break from the constant heightened emotion, both positive and negative, that she'd been experiencing the last 24 hours. It was even enough to allow her to address Emma once they were back in the car.

"Emma…" Cait began, the smile on Emma's face from the outcome of the Dr.'s visit fading with the serious tone of Cait's voice. "I… I think we need to talk... "

"About what?" Emma turned to look at Cait, her eyebrows knitted together.

"About Storybrooke… " She leveled her gaze at the woman, willing her to understand what she was talking about, without having to say it.

The car pulled into the drive in front of Granny's and Emma threw it into park, turning in her seat to look at Cait. "What about it…? What did Jefferson say…"

"Look… He told me some things… I don't know… I…" She swallowed and leaned her head back against the car seat. "If I'm being honest, I just don't have it in me to dive back into that today but… I think we need to talk later…"

"About Storybrooke huh?" Emma was nodding her head, glancing at Cait with a look that said she knew exactly what this conversation was about. "Yeah, I guess we do." She seemed to be thinking for a moment, hands gripping the steering wheel, fingers drumming along it. "Why don't you come to our place… Mine and Mary Margaret's for dinner tomorrow evening? Give you some time to yourself… or… whatever… and then we can talk."

Cait wondered if that whatever meant Jefferson, but she didn't say anything. "That sounds good… What time?"

"Maybe 5? I'll text you our address and I can come get you or, if you want to make your way over… now that you're crutch free… It isn't far…" Emma tried to give her something of a smile at that.

"Yeah, sounds good… I appreciate you driving me today… and everything else, of course." They looked at each other a moment longer and then Cait got out of the car and headed inside, Emma pulling back out onto the road; both women wondering exactly how they were going to deal with tomorrow, both of them not knowing.

* * *

Jefferson sat back in the arm chair, legs crossed, a book in his hands. Grace, sitting at a desk against the far wall, was scribbling away at her homework, or at least, she was supposed to be. Jefferson suspected, from the sound of her pencil against the paper, that she was doing less math and more doodling, but he let her be. His phone buzzed in his pocket then and he pulled it out, setting the book aside and standing from the chair. It was Cait.

"Cait?" He gave Grace a little tap on the shoulder and gestured to his phone, and she nodded, smiling up at him. "I'll be right back… I hope you're working on math and not art…" He gave her poignant look and she giggled but ducked her head and bent back over her work. "Sorry… How did it go?" He stepped out of the room and into the hall, leaving the door cracked behind him.

"Pretty good… I'm now happily wrist brace, ankle wrap, and crutches free. My ribs are ok, but will still be sore for a while… no surprise… and Dr. Whale thinks the concussion is clearing up nicely... " She sounded relieved and he was happy for her.

"I'm glad to hear it… What will we do with you now that you don't have those crutches holding you back?" He joked, and his heart skipped a little when he heard her laugh on the other end of the line.

"Who knows…" She paused and cleared her throat then and he worried for a moment where the conversation was about to go. "I kind of… talked to Emma about… today. I mean, not in any detail but, she wants me to come over for dinner tomorrow so we can talk… about Storybrooke."

Jefferson was quiet for a moment, nodding, even though should couldn't see him. "That's probably a good idea… Do you… do you want me to be there?" He wasn't even sure he should ask, but also didn't want her to have to face this alone again, if she wasn't ready for that.

"No, thank you… I mean, part of me does but I think I should probably talk to her alone or… I don't know, I guess maybe Mary Margaret or… do I call her Snow… Jesus, ugh… I guess she'll be there too… " Cait sounded tired, more than that really, drained. He felt a little bad, he knew their earlier activities, talking aside, had complicated things and probably hadn't helped in lightening the emotional load she was bearing. "I think… you and I need to talk as well."

Jefferson's heart nearly climbed into his throat at that, he could feel it beating behind his scar. "Yeah… I um… look, about earlier, I didn't mean to … over complicate things…"

Cait laughed dryly. "You didn't… I mean… I don't wish you hadn't… we hadn't… That's not even really what I want to talk about… I have questions… about the other stuff… but" She hesitated and the way her voice sounded when she spoke again, he could easily imagine her blushing as she talked. "I think… I mean, maybe we should talk at the diner or… something I just… I really do want to talk and I'm afraid... "

"Yeah… it's ok" He laughed, just a little. "Somewhere public is good, less… distractions…" She was right of course. After that first kiss it had been really hard, even when he was in the thick of explaining the situation in Storybrooke, to not just say the hell with it and pull her back into his arms. If they were actually going to converse in person, they would have manage that somehow. "I can stop by for breakfast, after I drop Grace off…"

"Yes!" She said it quickly and he grinned. "I mean… that's great. I'll be ready this time, promise…" They both laughed a little, more nervous than humorous, at that. "I guess I should let you go…" She sounded as if she didn't' want to, he certainly didn't' want her to but, she was right. He needed to spend time with Grace and she sounded wiped. He hoped, sincerely, that she got a decent night's rest.

"Yeah, I think Grace's math homework has turned into more of a still-life project… she was doodling the flower vase in the corner a minute ago which I'm not sure counts as division so…" He chuckled again and cleared his throat, his tone leveling out. "Cait… I hope you sleep well… I'll see you in the morning… If you need anything…"

"Thank you." She paused, voice catching ever so slightly. "Goodnight Jefferson. See you tomorrow."

"Goodnight." And then she was gone. He clicked the phone off and slid it into his pocket, making his way down the hall to the kitchen before going back to his daughter. He needed a minute. Even though of the two of them, he was sure Cait had the harder day, he was pretty beat himself. And since he'd left Cait immediately go pick up Grace, he hadn't really had any time to sit and think, to process. Jefferson poured himself a glass of water and leaned back against the counter, sipping at the cool liquid and letting his mind wander back over the day. It certainly hadn't gone as expected… no, that was an understatement, to say the least. And maybe he should have done more to control himself, not that Cait hadn't seemed into their… intimacy. It wasn't like they'd slept together but… his stomach twisted, and he knew that if things had unfolded a little differently… He shook that thought out of his head, downing the contents of the glass and pouring himself another. This was not what he wanted, was it? He knew he'd been fighting this, attraction, whatever it was, but now it was hard to remember why. It felt so inherently right to want Cait… want her not just physically but, want her next to him, to smile at him, to make her happy… It sort of all hit him at once. That realization, just how deep this ran. There'd been distraction aplenty earlier but now… He was immediately conflicted. He had sworn Grace would be his priority, that'd he be nothing but a devoted father,content to love her and give her everything she needed. Having someone else in his life… the idea that he might find someone… that had not entered the equation. Truthfully it still might not… if Cait was able to leave Storybrooke, now that she was mostly well… God that made him feel sick. He sat his glass down, hands coming up to cradle his head, which was beginning to ache. That was the problem, how could he ignore this… he was certain now that it wasn't just lust or infatuation… he'd never had such a visceral reaction to anything, except his daughter and her well being, before. He felt his stomach twist again as he realized that not even Priscilla had made him feel so completely.

Jefferson choked back a sob. What kind of terrible person was he? But it was true… Priscilla had been beautiful, headstrong… a fiery redhead… those things the two women had in common, but really, it ended there. The relationship he'd had with his wife had been built, initially on their mutual love of adventure, their shared thrill seeking and boisterous attitudes, and a definite, healthy dose of passion. She'd seemed too good to be true at the time. A woman who could match his wit, keep up with him when he was out, hopping world to world, who was beautiful, who wanted him… And then they'd had Grace and that was the foundation of their life together. Jefferson knew he'd loved Priscilla but standing in the quiet kitchen, searching his thoughts and memories of her, he wasn't sure he'd ever been in love with her. It felt like a punch in the gut, like he was betraying her by even thinking it… But none of that made it any less true. And he wondered, not for the first time, if he were being honest, if they'd not had Grace, would they have made it… He didn't know, and he never would, but having gone down this path of thought he found he only felt worse. More torn. He was having serious and strong feelings about Cait who he hardly knew, and already, was comparing them to what he'd had with his now long dead wife. Priscilla's death… it was his fault. There was no contesting that, but right now, in this more lucid, thoughtful moment, he wondered if that changed the way he viewed what they'd had. If it made it harder to admit that maybe Grace was what really held them together. He thought that was probably true, but it didn't change the fact that Grace had lost her mother because of him and that he now felt like he was sweeping her under the rug for someone he'd only even seen a handful of times. He picked up his glass of water and took another long drink. He didn't really want to think about this anymore… maybe he was reading too much into what had happened with Cait, but that nagging voice in the back of his mind kept reminding him of the literal shock that had run through them, the seemingly mutual desire for them to be close. There wasn't any real use in denying that, or in fighting it, he thought… it would likely only make him miserable, but there was something else. Right now, Cait only knew of him what he'd told her, a little bit that she'd heard from others (none of which had been detailed truths, somehow, blessedly), and simply what she'd experienced interacting with him just a couple of times… and frankly, most of that had been pretty awkward. The issue lay in that who he really was, at least who had been, who he was trying not to be, was not really a great person. A careless, selfish man who'd only changed when he'd had his daughter but who had still managed, in his recklessness and mistaken belief that the material was more important than the intangible, to get his wife killed and have his daughter separated from him for what felt like an eternity. He knew, that no matter what Grace said, she must have thought he'd abandoned her, and who could blame her. He had failed her as a father, badly, depriving her of both her parents in one way or another and now… now he was already failing his new promise to her. His vow to put her first, to put their family first… and more than that, failing her for designs on a woman who was, in all likelihood going to turn tail and get as far away from him as she could, once she saw him for who he was. The moment that she learned about Priscilla, or the situation with Emma and Mary Margaret… Here was an unstable, failure of a man who carelessly threw his daughter away, managed to get her mother murdered to save his own miserable life, and had turned to kidnapping and violence in his guilt ridden battle to get back his child... He felt physical pain thinking about it. He could almost imagine her looking at him with disgust, telling him he was mad, he was horrible… not to touch her or speak to her. He imagined Priscilla, saying it was all he deserved... He was so deep in his self-loathing, in the imagined scene with Cait rebuking him that he didn't hear the door to the kitchen open.

"Papa?" Grace was standing in front of him, looking worried. "Are you ok? You're crying…" She looked like she might cry too. He hadn't realized it until just then, but tears had been silently slipping down his cheeks.

"Hey, sweetheart… Yeah, I'm ok, just, thinking about something that ah… made me a little sad." He reached down to her, picking up her and setting her on the counter. She wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning into him, hugging him from her seat.

"I'm sorry Papa. I don't want you to be sad…" He rested his chin on top of her head, hugging her tight.

"I know, me either. But I feel better now that you're here…" He pulled back looking at her, bringing his hands up to pinch her cheeks a little, giving her a goofy smile.

"Papa!" She giggled and grabbed his hands pulling them away. "I finished my homework. Do you want to check it?"

"Already? Hmm… you sure about that? Or did you just get tired of drawing on the side of your paper?" He picked her up and started back toward the study, carrying her against his hip.

"My actual homework Papa! Can you read to me after?" Her giggle at his questioning echoed down the hallway and through Jefferson. Nothing he'd been thinking about or feeling before had been resolved, but this, Grace, was a reminder that at least, with her, whatever happened, he could get through it. He had to get through it.

"Of course baby… Homework, then you get ready for bed, and then, we'll read."

"Thank you Papa!" She cooed, hugging his neck tightly as he sat them down at the desk. "I love you!"

"I love you too Grace." He kissed her cheek and pulled the stack of papers toward him, arranging her in his lap. "Now, about this homework…"


End file.
